
1i 



)()UK. 



PRESENTED BY 



riee 50 cents.] 



THIRD EDITION. 



SELECTIONS FROM THE SERMONS 



OF 



•AORE AGOSTINO DA MONTEFELTRO 



Eoiteo by Catherine flbary pbtllimore. 




mew $orfe : James lpott & Co., 14 & 16, astor place. 



: 8 



/ 



SELECTIONS FROM THE 
SERMONS 5?^ 

OF 

PADRE AGOSTINO DA MONTEFELTRO 

n 



EDITED BY 

CATHERINE MARY PHILLIMORE. 



THIRD EDITION. 



NEW YOEK : 

JAMES POTT AND CO., 

14 AND 16, ASTOE PLACE. 



' am. 



Contents* 

^ 

M 

SERMONS I. and II, (Introductory)... ... ... 1, 6 

J III. 

GOD 14 

IV. 

^ THE SOUL ^ 2 

V. 

THE SPIRITUALITY OF THE SOUL ... 87 

VI./v •> V 

THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL 48 

VII. 

THE PURPOSE OF LIFE 59 

VIII. 

THE CLAIM OF GOD UPON OUR LIVES ... 71 

IX. 

FAMILY LIFE ... 83 

X. 

PAIN 9<3 

XL. 

HOPE 108 

XII. 

THE OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY ... „ " I0S 

XIII. 

LIBERTY 140 

XIV. 

THE WORKING CLASSES 154 



Jntrobuctforu 



It is certain that the more we look back upon Florentine art, the 
more convinced we are that inspiration alone can have guided Fra 
Angelico in his treatment of those sacred subjects which are sa 
familiar to us as the works of his pencil, imparting to his 
representations of Angels, Saints, and Madonnas a strange 
unearthly beauty, peculiarly their own. And this characteristic 
strikes us still more forcibly when they are set beside modern 
works of art, for these reveal to us plainly that the mind of the 
artist has been guided by no other influence than that which has 
come to him through the medium of the outward sense. The 
real, as it can be seen, felt, and analysed — this is the modem 
formula of art. 

If, then, an accurate knowledge of the real — taken in its 
literal sense — is now necessary to paint the scenes of life upon 
canvass, or to sculpture them in marble, how much greater, how 
much more arduous, are the studies which must be pursued, in 
the very midst of the storms and troubles of life, if they are to 
enable the philosopher or the orator to mould and influence the 
heart of man ? And then follows the next question : How is it 
possible that the complicated drama of human life can have 
unfolded its secrets to Padre Agostino da Montefeltro in his 
quiet dwelling - place within the little territory of Nicosia ? 
Through what t chink can so accurate a reflection of the feverish 
excitement of the present century have passed into the retirement 
of his monastic cell ? And further, who has given him the 
courage to address the people with fearless confidence, and to say, 
" My friends, your great desire is to press onwards : to advance 
in every sense of the word. Well, then, in the name of the faith 
of our fathers, I say to you Forward! " 



Jntrotmctiom 



Padre Agostino is not only a man of fearless courage : he is 
r also a man of the time ; and from this immediate present he 
.casts his glance back over the record of the sufferings of humanity, 
; and traces the course of that long history where each will find his 
.own page faithfully recorded. Then, in soft, persuasive accents, he 
.soothes and calms the soul of the listener by the suggestion of faith 
jin a better life to come. He knows how the fatal tide of human 
passion sweeps through the daily life of man, agitating and ruffling 
its course, producing counter currents of dissension and strife, and* 
iin the Name of that Master Who calmed the troubled waters of the 
Lake of Gennesaret, he raises his voice above the tumult of the 
.century to pronounce again the words " Peace : be still." 

It may be that the direct vigour of his style, the impassioned 
eloquence which has caught at every image- in the fervour of the 
moment to add life and interest to his discourse, will not stand 
the test of posterity, and that, as a work of art, his sermons 
may not hold their place or win the enduring triumphs with 
which the works of the great artist and sculptor have been 
crowned by each succeeding generation : but to balance this, 
there is the triumph of the present moment — a triumph greater 
than any ever achieved by the sculptor or the painter — when a 
thousand hearts vibrate in answer to his touch, and his own 
enthusiam awakens a corresponding feeling among his thousand 
hearers. 

The art of sympathy is not by any means given to everyone. 
It belongs to a few, and those very highly-gifted, natures. With 
Padre Agostino the training and development of this faculty may 
be traced to the patient study with which he has followed the 
long march of Christianity through the course of centuries. 
Starting with the Bible and the Temple at Jerusalem, he dwells 
upon the power of Christianity to take up her position in every 
£poch of the world's history, and make good her influence upon 
mankind : whether it is to impart strength in the first bitter 
struggle with Paganism, during the supremacy of the Barbarians, 
<qx to bring the first ray of light into the utter darkness of the 
Middle Ages; to sustain the Italian Commonwealths in their 



Sntrotmctfon. 



xiii 



struggle for liberty, or to remain as a steadfast monitor beside 
the thrones and principalities of Europe, undazzled by their 
splendour, unabashed by their power. 

If, then, to a complete knowledge of mankind, an innate con- 
viction of its high and noble destiny, an instinctive love of all 
that is beautiful in God's creation, you add the firm courage of a 
martyr, the portrait of Padre Agostino stands before you. And 
the sphere is worthy of the man. Nor could anyone who had 
ever been present during one of his sermons say of the inspired 
words which fell from the lips of the Franciscan preacher that 
they were " spoken in vain," for the people who throng the side 
aisles in thousands renew their efforts to come within reach 
of his voice. A murmur of impatience rises from the nave of the 
Cathedral, and mingles itself with the lingering notes of the 
organ, as the clerk draws the curtain of the pulpit and reveals 
Padre Agostino da Montefeltro. He looks around upon them all, 
a blaze of enthusiasm flashing from the depths of his eager, 
sunken eyes, and with a j winning smile, which, deepening round 
the mouth, affords, according to Lavater, an unfailing evidence 
of a noble and generous disposition. 

His sermons being constructed on strictly logical principles 
— one unbroken chain of argument running through them all — * 
he is in the habit of beginning each discourse by a recapitulation 
of the propositions enunciated in the discourse of the preceding 
day, and this he does with marked and careful emphasis, a 
studied monotony of voice, as if he were repeating a lesson by 
heart, leaning forward upon the pulpit rail, and looking straight 
in front of him. Then he announces what will be the subject of 
the discourse of the day, and begins to preach. In an instant 
voice, attitude, expression — all are transformed. His utterance, 
as rapid and pellucid as the torrent of a mountain stream, is 
seconded by the gestures of a born orator. His attitude, which 
at first sight seemed in his Franciscan habit as rigid and immov- 
able as that of a statue, becomes at once animated and pliant, 
while every line of the countenance bears witness to the profound 
inward conviction of his soul. 



Sntrofcuctiom 



At the end of the first period he has won the hearts of his 
audience, and there is no doubt as to the fascination of his 
eloquence. Without ever losing its virile, incisive character, it 
easily lends itself to paint the fond picture of home life, to pity 
suffering, to brand iniquity with righteous indignation, and, 
divinely inspired, to soar into the very Presence of God. 

Eapt in profound interest, breathless, intent, the people 
follow him, drawn upwards irresistibly by the golden thread of 
his eloquence. Step by step he raises them up the ladder of 
faith, till, with a firm but reverent hand, he can lift the veil of 
the unseen and infinite and bid them look within. Thence, with 
sudden alternation from that supreme height, he turns their 
gaze back upon the world. With accents of the deepest tender- 
ness he speaks of the sorrows of mankind, and counts, as it were, 
one by one, the tear-drops of humanity. There is one stern 
word of warning to recall their responsibilities to the great and 
powerful of the earth ; and then to the poor and needy, to those 
who weep the bitter tears of misery, with darkness in their lives 
and despair in their souls, "Lift up your hearts," he cries, "lift 
up your hearts : you are God's own people. He has chosen you 
for His own possession." And those who are hanging breathless 
on his words feel that at that moment God is very near to them. 
A thrill of rapture runs through the vast congregation, which, 
but for a feeling of reverence, would, like the thunder of the 
distant cataract, burst forth in a transport of applause. 

Padre Agostino da Montefeltro is a man of the day ; but the 
fervour of his eloquence is such that, had he lived in the eleventh 
century, he would undoubtedly have accompanied Peter the 
Hermit in his crusade, and, waving aloffc the banner of the Cross, 
would have traversed Europe barefoot to incite the nations to 
redeem the Holy Sepulchre from the hands of the Infidel. If he 
had been contemporaneous with the Saint of Assisi, he would 
have sacrificed himself for the sake of charity and love. If he 
had been a citizen at the time of Savonarola's Republic, he 
would have been a martyr in the cause of liberty. In the reign 
of Louis XIV., emulating Massillon and Bossuet, he would have 



Jntro&uctiom 



XV 



courted exile rather than let his eloquence be restrained by any 
servile wish to please an earthly master. Nor would his funeral 
orations have been reserved for the Court alone, but would have 
been pronounced with equal readiness over the bier of an honest 
working man, {Introductory notice to the Sermons from the 
Elettrico Newspaper^ translated from the Italian.) 



SELECTIONS FROM THE SERMONS 

OF 

PADRE AGOSTINO DA MONTEFELTRO, 

Preached in the Cathedral at Florence, Lent, 1S87. 



I.* 

My Brethren, — The social condition of mankind, whether we 
look at it from above or from below, upon the right hand or 
upon the left, from the political or from the religious point of 
view, in whatever aspect we may choose to consider it— the 
social condition of mankind has sunk into such an abyss of 
degradation, that it will soon become impossible to find any 
means of extrication from it. There was a time, my brethren, 
citizens of Florence, when I should have hailed with joy this 
opportunity of addressing you ; but now, alas ! the preacher has 
little cause for joy when he sees on all sides our holy religion 
derided by the philosopher, denied by the Materialist, scoffed at 
by the Atheist. This is not the first time I have had the 
privilege of speaking to you. You know who I am, and you 
know that I have but one wish, one aim, and that is to put 
before you the Truth. I am not here to represent any one 
particular school of thought : I come in the Name of God, the 
Ambassador of His mercy. I have but one message for you : 
I should betray my trust if I did not deliver it. I come, I repeat, 
to teach you the Truth. It is no moment to veil our Standard, 
which is that of Jesus Christ. Bather let us raise it on high, 
that all may see inscribed upon it that one word " Truth." 
And once again, my brethren, What is Truth ? Truth is for 

* These two first discourses can only be looked upon as fragments. The 
reporters could not at first keep pace with the rapidity of the preacher's utter- 
ances, but afterwards, growing more accustomed, they were able to follow them 
with comparative ease, and reproduce them in print. 

B 



2 



Sermon 1— Sntrotmctprs* 



man the beginning of everything, the germ of beauty, the secret 
of happiness ; it is just because Truth is so necessary, so 
indispensable, that it has been made of primary importance 
during the eighteen centuries which have preceded the one in 
which we now live. But for the past centuries, let them be : 
we will leave them alone : we shall find enough to occupy our 
minds in the present moment. This century is not different to 
its predecessors ; and if we ask what is the watchword of the 
age, we shall find that it is now, as it has been always, the same 
word, Truth. But what is the Truth, my brethren, which the 
age professes to teach ? The word is upon the lips of everyone ; 
but who is there that acts up to its meaning ? There was a 
time when the word Truth was indelibly engraven upon the 
heart of man ; but what is the case now ? Do the philosophers 
profess it ? Do the potentates of the earth — Kings, Princes, and 
Magistrates — acknowledge it ? Do the people believe in it ? In 
the present day we protest against the principle of authority and 
the duty of obedience. Authority has become a mere form ; and 
for obedience — it is nowhere to be found ! Each one is at once 
his own master and the servant of his own will, and this is 
the germ of anarchy. Indifference is another ruling principle of 
the age in which we live. There is passion, and but too often 
fierce hatred usurps the place of love ; but there is no earnest 
purpose no firmness of w T ill ; the character intent upon the 
pursuit of pleasure alone becomes fickle and unstable, and utterly 
incapable of honest effort or disinterested self-sacrifice ; and 
egotism has absorbed even filial affection and patriotic feeling. 

When such principles are lacking, it is little indeed that can 
be expected from man. Although we must not for one moment 
deceive ourselves into thinking that our greatness or our learning 
are in the smallest degree necessary to Almighty God, we may 
yet remember that He, of His infinite mercy, has willed that man 
may become a co-operator with Him in His work. It cannot be 
denied that the world is passing through a crisis which will one 
day form an epoch in history. There is trouble on all sides ; the 
horizon of the future is black with clouds ; and to whom may we 



Sermon l— Jntro&uctorg* 



3 



look for succour if not to Thee, God ? Industry, commerce, 
science have advanced with rapid strides ; but their progress is 
vain if the men who are to redeem Society by a noble and 
upright standard of conduct are lacking. And such men, where 
are they to be found ? To what cause can this failure be 
attributed ? In the first instance, to a preponderance of evil 
influence ; and afterwards, among a multitude of reasons all of 
which I cannot enumerate here, we may instance the unrestrained 
liberty of the press, the scandal retailed in the daily newspapers, 
the love of pleasure, and the lack of faith. Yv^hen you add to 
these a deliberate practice of wilful wickedness, the evils of 
Society are summed up. Men seek for happiness in Materialism, 
and find nothing but misery— a misery so bitter, so insupport- 
able, that it drives them to seek relief from it in suicide. The 
pursuit of pleasure has never made the greatness or the welfare of 
nations, as may be proved by the evidence of all ages and all 
countries. 

But the evil state of things once admitted, the next step is to 
apply the remedy. Each person thinks he possesses one, and 
puts it forward ; each one has his formula, and believes it to be 
infallible. Some say that if the welfare of Society is to be 
secured, it must start from new principles : that it would be best 
to discard the teaching of Jesus Christ and His ministers as 
antiquated and no longer suitable for the age. But to confine 
ourselves to practical experience alone, this system has proved a 
fatal mistake already, and, if it continues to prevail, we shall 
see that Society will pull destruction upon itself with both hands. 
"Whan can be done to avert this calamity ? It is in vain that 
modern philosophers are ready with their cut-and-dried theories, 
purely materialistic or purely rational. Are these sufficient for 
the occasion ? Have reason or logic ever had power to stem the 
tide of human passion ? They are free with their promises of 
happiness to the people who clamour for it, but is it in their 
power to give it ? No. Then the people, finding they have been 
deceived, try to snatch what they can for themselves by force, and 
have to be met and opposed by answering force. 



4 



Sermon 1— Sntro&nctorg, 



Petroleum, dynamite — these are the fruits of the teaching of 
the philosopher and the Atheist, By the help of, and in the Name 
of Jesus Christ, I will endeavour to point out to you, in these 
sermons, the only remedy against the perils which surround us, 
and in His Name I will show you the Truth. First of all, the 
most essential of all things is the knowledge of our Lord and 
Saviour Jesus Christ.* In the knowledge of Jesus Christ is con- 
tained the sum and substance of all Truth. That point reached, 
there is an end of all hypothesis. With one clear, distinct rule 
of conduct, there is no longer any occasion to go from sophism to 
gophism, from negation to negation, from system to system. The 
plain teaching of Jesus Christ is to love our home and our country, 
£ind to be ready to cherish these with our latest breath. When 
you approach the Altar to receive the Holy Communion, you are 
drawn towards your Lord : you love Him ; and therefore in Him 
you love all that is beautiful, and noble, and free. It is a 
legitimate joy so to love — indeed, it is the aim of Christianity to 
wage warfare against egotism, which i's the obstacle to love, It 
is the Christian's faith alone which can inspire the noble instinct 
of self-sacrifice, while at the same time it reveals to our sight the 
grown which is laid up for us in Heaven ; and, when this is not a 
sufficient incentive, will recall to our minds the recollection of the 
Supreme Judge, before Whom we must all appear to receive the 
reward of our deeds, or the punishment of our sins. Christianity 
has power to rekindle in our hearts the flame of brotherly love, 
to unite us all in one bond of faith, and hope, and love ; and by 
and bye, when the present crisis of trouble and difficulty shall 
have yielded to its holy influence, the strong will help the weak, 
and war and tumult will cease from the face of the earth. The 
old heathen world acknowledged the influence at last when 
groaning under the weight of an insupportable tyranny, and, sunk 
in degrading corruption, the people found that Christianity alone 
contained the germ of restored order, the promise of future great- 



* " That they might know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ Whom 
Thou hast sent " (St. John xvii. 3). 



Sermon I— Sntro&uctorg, 



6 



ness. The modern world must take a lesson from ancient history, 
and follow in the same steps ; and if to-day faith seems extinct, 
out of darkness and disorder it will spring again into life. It is 
when the dark shadow of approaching peril falls across the 
threshold of the house of feasting that men rise in their terror and 
call upon God. And they do well to cry to Him, for if He does 
not deliver them they can hope for no return of their joy or glad- 
ness. Banish, if you will, the thought of God from your hearts 
and from your lives : the time will come when you must go forth 
to seek Him — if, haply, He may still be found. 







Sermon 2— ^ntrobuctors* 



ii. 

My Brethren, — The reasoning faculties of mankind, Christian 
civilization, the welfare of our country, are now being subjected 
to a very hard trial : they are all alike threatened by the 
sacrilegious attack of Atheism. Misguided men, despising the 
universally-accepted tradition of a long course of centuries, and 
the instructive lessons of history : trampling under foot all the 
teachings of philosophy, the interests of Society, the law of the 
land, and the rule of their own conscience, have declared open 
war against God. Day by day they pursue their iniquitous 
campaign, carrying it with vindictive pertinacity and implacable 
hatred into every province of the human intellect. They not 
only refuse to know God, but they deny His existence : the 
existence of God, the first Cause, and Essential Being, the 
Supreme Legislator of the laws which govern Heaven and earth, 
the Maker and Preserver of all things ; God, the Ideal of all 
perfection, all power, and wisdom, the Sum of Knowledge, and 
the Supreme Good. But believe me, my brethren, there is a 
record kept in Heaven of those who still lift up their protest 
against this negation of God. There still remain some con- 
scientious physicians who have not repudiated the teaching of 
their great predecessors, and in all grades of the intellectual 
hierarchy God keeps a faithful account of those men who make 
it their boast to avenge the sacrilege, who bear witness to Him, 
who hope in Him. But, on the other hand, the Christian may 
well have cause for sadness when he knows that the Cross is no 
longer to be found in the Hall of Judgment, that it is banished 
from the school, that there are hospitals where it no longer 
consoles the agony of the dying, graves where it does not indicate 
the " sure and certain hope" of the dead. To-day Atheism 
stands before us shameless and unmasked. It no longer hides 
itself under the cloak of rationalistic systems of philosophy ; it 
declares itself openly in the legislative assembly, in the press, in 



Sermon 2— Sntrofcuctorg* 



7 



the theatre ; and soon it will enter into the very precincts of 
home, and take up its position beside the domestic hearth. This 
is the danger I would point out to you, for as an open enemy it 
must be openly recognised and confronted. 

God ! This is a word which we have all pronounced seated 
on our mother's knees, leaning on her breast. This is a word 
which for us expresses the noblest of all realities. Historians 
w T ho have traversed the ages from beginning to end bear witness 
to the belief in God ; metaphysicians who have studied the mind 
of man have found the same idea, patent alike to the learned and 
the ignorant, the citizen and the savage. Speak to the shepherd 
on the mountains, ask him if he believes in the Infinite ; he will 
reply he knows it not. Ask him if he believes in God, and he 
will answer " Yes." A man who does not believe in God must 
do violence to himself, to the living, and to the dead. But, it 
may be objected, it is not true that all men have believed, and do 
believe, in God. If men are to be found without this idea of 
God (and this is by no means proved), they are only rare 
exceptions. Atheism is confined to individual cases, and to 
certain schools. It cannot be looked upon as the result of 
science, because, on the contrary, science elucidates while it 
enhances the idea of God. It cannot be attributed to fear, 
because it cannot be said to affect all mankind ; nor to politics, 
because it suffices to examine all legislation to see how all 
presuppose a religious belief of some kind. 

How, then, are we to account for the immemorial, universal 
belief in God ? It cannot be said that it is a mere historical 
conclusion, an error of our forefathers, which has been transmitted 
from generation to generation, because in the course of centuries 
it would have been rectified. The phenomenon, then, of inherent 
belief in God can only be explained as a natural instinct, as the 
result of the influence of the senses upon the reason : a law all 
the more imperious, a necessity all the more inevitable, because 
even the perversion of the will has not been able to overcome it 
or cripple its influence upon mankind. For the exceptions to 
the general rule can only be found among men of corrupt morals 



8 



Sermon 2—3nttoMctot^ 



and deadened conscience. St. Thomas Aquinas was but con- 
firming the axiom of Cicero and Seneca when he said : " That 
which all men affirm cannot be false." And it has been always 
held that universal testimony may be accepted as evidence of the 
natural intuition of mankind. Therefore we must conclude that 
when Nature leads us to believe that God exists, God does exist. 

Atheism is the most profound anomaly, because it refuses to 
recognise one of human nature's most imperious instincts. Either 
we must believe in God, and so reconcile common sense with our 
natural instinct, or we must deny God, repudiate the universal 
testimony of man, and reject natural instinct. We must, in fact, 
believe in God or cease to be men. Some will, however, observe : 
6 4 If belief in God is a characteristic essentially distinctive of man, 
how is it that Atheists exist ? " But do you really believe that 
Atheists exist, as some pretend to teach 1 Do not the efforts 
which these people make to convince themselves of the non- 
existence of God sufficiently prove to you that they are subject to 
the power of God ? An ancient poet asked a philosopher : " Dost 
thou believe in the existence of the gods ? " And the philosopher 
replied : " I believe it," and the proof is that I hate them." How 
many similar Atheists there are in the present day who think to 
become popular by the very novelty of their negation. 

But let us pass on to another problem, at once scientific and 
popular, the truth of which can be proved by reason and experience. 
It has always been the subject of metaphysical inquiry, treated 
by all the philosophers in turn. Beginning with Anaxagoras, 
then taken up by Socrates and Cicero, it was splendidly developed 
by St. Augustine. Even Kant, whilst censuring it, spoke of it 
with sympathy. It can be epitomised thus : — 

(1) Nature— that is, Heaven, earth, the green things upon it, 
plants, animals, men — nature exists ; I see it, I feel it. Now, 
reason tells me there is no work without a workman ; and from 
this axiom — which admits of no exception — I conclude that there 
must be a supreme workman, apart from nature, who has 
created all things : that this workman must be from eternity 
eternal, without ever having been created. 



Sermon 2— 5ntro&uctors* 



(2) Nature has life, movement ; but reason tells me there is 
no motion without a motor ; and from this axiom — which 
admits of no exception — I conclude that there must be a prime 
motor who has life in himself, and can never lose it. 

(3) Nature is regular, methodical in her movements ; but 
reason says there is no regularity without a regulator ; and from 
this axiom — which admits of no exception — I conclude that there 
must be a supreme, perfect, intelligent regulator. 

Let us see how this problem is further developed. Our 
senses provide us with indisputable evidence of the existence of 
something. Unless we take refuge in absolute scepticism, we 
must acknowledge the existence of the visible world, of the beings 
who surround us, and at least we must be aware of our own 
existence. Therefore, if something exists, God exists. Let us 
consider the logical order of these two propositions. Existence 
can only be conceived under two forms : either a being exists 
spontaneously, or it has derived its existence from others. 
Philosophy calls essential being that which exists spontaneously ; 
it calls accidental being that which exists because it has derived its 
existence from another. This granted, let us see how the 
existence of nature proves the existence of God. The proof is 
shown by this dilemma : either all beings are accidental, ot 
there is an essential being. If ail beings were accidental they 
must have derived their existence from another ; but from whom ? 
No accidental being can exist of itself ; because it would have to 
exist and not to exist ; exist, because the proof of existence lies 
in action, and no one can act unless he exists. There must be a 
being who exists spontaneously : a being who has caused every- 
thing to exist without need of himself deriving existence from any 
source. That being is God. Matter is eternal, say the Material- 
ists ; but the answer to these enemies of religion is simple — 
Eternity of matter supposes its existence previous to the 
appearance of men upon the earth. Now 7 , since they declare that 
no dates are to be accepted but those which are appreciable to 
the senses, I will ask : This matter which existed millions of 



10 



Sermon 2— Sntrcftuctorg, 



years ago, to whose senses was it appreciable ? They must needs 
confess their ignorance, or recant their principles. 

My brethren, Materialists, philosophers, Positivists, only 
resolve one part of the problem. From the beginning man has 
asked himself three questions : Who am I? Whence do I come I 
Whither am I going ? They reply to the first and the last of these 
questions, but what of the second ? No one has answered it. 
Humanity is vast, it is infinite, for it has no end : but what is 
the origin of humanity ? According to their system, the nearer 
a man approaches to his origin, the more insignificant he becomes* 
Were he, however, but an atom, the existence of that atom must 
be admitted. And who created the atom ? We are bound to 
suppose that from all eternity there existed in matter an intelli- 
gent force, which, developing itself, has created this beautiful 
order of things which we see before us ; we must suppose, that is, 
the existence of a spiritual property in matter, of which the magic 
crystal or philosopher's stone may serve as illustrations. But 
who is satisfied with this ? The world is not an inert mass : the 
world is a centre of movement and life. From the planets which 
move upon their heavenly way, to the crystals which are found 
in the bowels of the earth ; from the butterfly which flits in a ray 
of sunshine, to the lion as he crosses the desert ; from the worm 
which creeps under the blade of grass, to the eagle as he soars 
in the sky, a vast current of movement runs through the world. 
Whence does the world derive this movement? We must 
either say that the world derives this movement from a principle 
apart from itself, or else that it is inherent in matter and 
essential to it. If you say that this movement is essential to 
matter, you will find yourself in opposition to physics and 
mechanics. This movement is not fortuitous, the work of chance, 
nor is it vague and indefinite : it is regular and certain. And 
observe, this order manifests itself not only in the aggregate, but 
in every detail of the universe. This order forces itself upon 
our attention ; it is not only visible in the immensity of the 
heavenly spheres, but also in the lowest creatures that crawl 
upon the earth. It appears in all phenomena, visible not only to 



Sermon 2— Jntro&uctorg* 



11 



the naked eye, but to the eye equipped with optical instruments,- 
which have been brought to the highest perfection. How are we 
to explain this order ? Some have said, " By the laws of 
nature." But these laws proclaim God : they cannot take His 
place. 

My brethren, when we read the Iliad and the Odyssey we are 
struck by Homer's genius ; when we raise our eyes to that 
cupola we think of Brunelleschi ; and when we behold the 
beautiful order which, reigns in the heavens, shall we not find 
there the work of God ? Shall we not worship God ? It should 
be a natural result of sounding the depths of human knowledge 
that the heart of man should lift itself up to God. Consider the 
sciences, and you will see that all their experiments are but so 
many steps defined in the human intellect, raised one above the 
other till they reach the altar of God. And if science should 
presume to overthrow this altar, we may ask, "What is the 
furthest limit as yet attained by the efforts of science " ? The 
progress of modern science, the marvels of analysis, have pro- 
duced such great results, have led to discoveries which will 
always be the glory of our century ; but I repeat, to what point 
has science attained by its discoveries, by its analyses ? When 
modern science has accomplished the complicated dissection of a 
leaf, when it has shown that leaf folded up in the winter, when 
it has shown us the sap, warmed by the sun's rays in spring, 
rising through the branches and imparting its influence even to 
the tissue of its innermost core ; when it has analysed the leaf, 
when it has shown us all those pores by which it inhales the air* 
and, drawing nourishment, exhales it again with salubrious effect 
upon the surrounding atmosphere ; when it has shown us in this 
way the whole economy of the system by which the earth is per- 
petually clad with verdure to gladden men's eyes and rejoieti 
their hearts — I ask, " What has science done by this except to 
prove more and more the existence of God ? " Again, when 
science has spread its wings, has soared beyond space, has 
measured the distance which separates the planets, and has been 
able to say a planet will show itself in the horizon at a given 



12 



Sermon 2— SntroMctorg, 



moment, what lias it done except to give an exultant proof of the 
.existence of God ? Therefore, we must give earnest heed to the 
first article of our Creed: "I believe in God the Father 
Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth," because, whilst the 
wisdom of the Arabian proverb, " I acknowledge that a man has 
passed who has left footprints upon the sand," will carry us to a 
certain point, we need not stop there, but we may go on to say 
with Newton, " I believe in the existence of God " ; with Linnceus, 
" I have seen God as He passed " ; with Galienus, " I will sing 
r ri hymn to the Creator of mankind." 

But let us also seek God within ourselves. The present flees 
from me ; the past does not belong to me ; the future is not in 
any power. In spite of these contending circumstances, I can 
discover innumerable wonders. I can discern beauty, not beauty 
incomplete, but perfect and without flaw. I can conceive truth, 
indisputable, absolute, certain, beyond all discussion. I can 
conceive happiness, not fleeeting and capricious, but a full, per- 
fect happiness, capable of satisfying all my aspirations, all the 
aspirations of my fellow-men. I can conceive a power, an 
omnipotent power. I can conceive an intelligence from whence 
nothing is hidden : an intelligence which can fathom the depths 
of science, and receive it all into itself. And I am filled with 
wonder, with surprise, in the presence of this idea which astounds 
pie, which fills me with rapture. And I ask myself, " Where 
does this idea come from ? J? My brethren, the presence of the 
Idea of the infinite in our mind can only be explained in one way : 
this idea is within me ; I derive this idea from the Infinite, of 
which I am the image. But not only am I possessed with the 
Idea of the infinite : there is another idea which holds possession 
of my mind, the idea of love — love which holds out to us the 
promise of eternity. God exists : He is a living Being. He is 

phantasm, for then I should love a phantasm, and my heart 
would be the victim of a delusion. There is, however, another 
marvel to be accounted for — the existence of Conscience, which 
I find within me. Who has not heard its voice : " Thou hast 
llone well, thou hast done ill " 2 Man must stand face to face 



Sermon 2— Sntrotmctorg* 



19 



with this mysterious guest ; escape from him he cannot. Who 
has placed this conscience within me — this tribunal before which 
I must appear in spite of myself ? Can it be my family, Society t 
education ? But conscience is often opposed to that which is 
approved of at home, to that which occurs in Society, to that 
which education teaches. We must look beyond man. Con* 
science is given us by God, Yv 7 hom I now invoke in fervent, heart- 
felt prayer as " our Hope and Strength, a very present help in 
trouble." It is true there are some who say they do not believe 
in God ; but I believe that beside a father's death-bed, or at the 
grave of a mother, or a child, they vail find their faith again, 1 
believe that at the close of their life, at least, they will bow before* 
Him. This is the hope which comforts me when I think of 
these my brothers who have wandered from the fold. And do 
Thou, oh ! my God, grant that this my hope may not be in 
vain ! 



14 



Sermon 3* 



III: 
GOD, 

My Brethren, — God exists. The history of mankind proclaims 
it ; all nations unite in. affirming it, philosophers and people 
alike. Plato declared his belief in God, and Aristotle, Cicero, 
Seneca have made this faith the theme of their finest works. 
The nations of the world have from the earliest period never 
ceased to affirm their belief in the Deity. In countries the most 
diverse the idea of God has universally been the first civilising 
element, so that it can always be truly said that the moral 
effect of this universal belief in God is an ascertained historical 
fact. The order and harmony which reign in creation proclaim 
the existence of God, and Voltaire's saying will ever remain true 
5 — viz., "As the clock proves the existence of a clockmaker, so 
the universe proves the existence of a supreme intelligence." 
God exists. This is established by the reason which recognises 
Him as the infinite Being of Whom it realizes the idea, and to 
the possession of Whom it aspires. Conscience proclaims the 
existence of God, and we can always say with truth that if we 
seek God we shall find Him everywhere — that we can never 
escape from Him. Even Atheists must sooner or later come to 
acknowledge the existence of God. Listen to the words of one 
of our great contemporary teachers : " There are two kinds of 
Atheists, the one conscious, the other unconscious. Unconscious 
Atheists are those who do not believe in God, because they have 
pever conceived any idea of God, and they belong to the most 
degenerate of the human race. Conscious Atheists, on the other 
Jiand, are those who knew God, who have believed in God, but 
-who have ceased to believe in Him, and they are professors, 
learned men, philosophers, men of great intellect, often leaders 
Df mankind. So that, strange as it may seem, these great men, 
with their great scientific schemes, have only succeeded in 



GoD. 



15 



resembling the most degraded, the most ignorant of all human 
beings. "Who is God % " Saint Thomas Aquinas, when still 
a child, enquired of his teachers. And when he had received an 
answer, he continued asking, " Who is God?" and he never 
received a satisfactory reply. 

Who is God ? This morning you shall know, my brethren, 
Who is God. Two rival forces confront this problem with solu- 
tions diametrically opposed to each other : philosophy and 
religion. Philosophy offers a false and vicious solution ; religion 
offers a solution which alone can be accepted, because it is in 
accordance with the rules of science. 

Let us begin with philosophy. When nations, having for- 
saken God, were abandoned to themselves ; when primitive 
tradition, no longer true to itself, gave forth only a flickering 
uncertain light, then, incited by the noble instincts of a nature 
created for the truth, they fell back on themselves, took counsel 
of observation, sought the light of reason ; and hence the origin 
of philosophy. What was the result produced by philosophy 
after labouring by itself with constant, unremitting labour? 
Only the preservation of some fragments of truth buried under 
systems radically false. Impotent to conceive an idea of the 
Supreme Being, and unwilling to accept that of Eevelation, 
philosophy created a blind divinity — Fate. Feeling, however, 
that for the people there was need of a Superior Being, one more 
conformable to their nature, it invoked Polytheism, which, 
advancing the theory that happiness consisted in the satisfaction 
of the senses, justified all the errors of heathen customs, and 
made the order, the sublime order of the universe, result from 
nothing but the blind forces of nature. 

Let us consider the Oriental system of philosophy. In the 
East philosophy and religion are one and the same, for Eastern 
philosophy is full of symbols, of rites, because it addresses itself 
to nations who are governed by strong enthusiasm. Even in 
that far distant epoch the grossest errors, such as Pantheism and 
Metempsychosis, disfigured the system. Afterwards the same 
errors reappeared reflected in the mythology of Greece and Boum* 



16 



Sermon 3* 



Although at that period it widened its horizons, although, by 
originating Platonism, it threw a great splendour of light upon 
the world, yet it ended in scepticism, Nor was this the least or 
the last of the evil results which ensued. In the zenith of its 
glory it became the hot-bed of all speculative and practical errors, 
and generated a terrible confusion. The Alexandrine philosophy 
issuing from this chaos came forward as a reaction from 
scepticism. Appearing just at the time of the establishment of 
Christianity, offspring of a Pagan idea, it pledged itself to remain 
heathen : it pledged itself to take up arms against Christ and the 
Church, not with the weapons of science, but with accusations 
and calumnies. But when, in its arrogance, it would fain teach 
the highest truth, the truth eluded its grasp, and veiled itself in 
mystery. 

Let us pass on to consider modern philosophy. Modern 
philosophy, which dates from the Renaissance, only circulates in 
the same sphere as that of the ancient schools ; there is not one 
of its theses the germ of which is not to be found among the 
Freethinkers of former times. Modern philosophy proclaims the 
negation of every religion, the negation of the living God as He 
is taught by religion, and if you need anything further to con- 
vince yourselves of the truth of what I say, you have but to read 
the historians, novelists, and poets of the day. Modern philo- 
sophy heralds a revolution which will change the face of the earth ; 
and meanwhile, at the zenith of the nineteenth century, it dares 
to say that Cod is chaos, that the universe is self- existent, that. 
God represents evil, that the word God should be erased from 
our thoughts and our speech ! You who believe in God, have 
you heard how He is spoken of in certain reviews which are 
placed in the hands of the young by certain professors who are 
liberally paid by the revenues of our country ? by the newspapers, 
which fall into the hands of the people ? If the conception of 
God is still a problem too hard for many of these modem 
philosophers, in spite of their magnificent demonstrations of 
genius, what a warning is it for us to hold fast to the school of 
our religion, to the Church of Christ ! For it alone is capable 



C5oD, 



17 



of forming an idea of God in harmony with the rules of science. 
When religion, by the voice of the Church, speaks of God, it 
brings before our minds an idea of infinite grandeur, and yet so 
simple in its grandeur that it is within reach of the awed 
intelligence of little children. It is, then, to our religion that 
we will appeal — and that with fearless confidence — for an answer 
to the question Who is God ? Who is God considered in the 
abstract ? Who is God considered in His attributes ? Who is 
God considered in His works ? Open the Gospel, source of true 
wisdom, and listen to the answer ! How clear, how complete 
it is ! It is the first answer in the Catechism, it is the first 
article of the Creed, it is the first word we have pronounced 
as we sat on our mother's knees and leaned upon her breast. 
Come, little child, whom I see there listening to me ; come, 
thou hast been taught the Catechism by thy mother ; come, 
my child, and tell me — Who is God? And the child will 
unhesitatingly reply: 4 4 God is a pure Spirit, infinitely perfect, 
Creator of Heaven and earth, Supreme Lord and Governor 
of all things." * The answer is one of sublime wisdom. Did 
you follow it ? God is a pure Spirit : here is the utter con- 
fusion of the senseless theory of Pantheism. God is perfect : 
here is the refutation of the impious asseveration that God is the 
God of evil. The Creator of Heaven and earth. The hypothesis, 
ther., of a universe self-existent from everlasting falls to the 
ground. This. conception of God, sublime in its very simplicity, 
penetrates the child's mind, enlightens his understanding ; it is 
the anchor of his soul, and, under the all-seeing eye of an ever- 
watchful Providence, he grows in wisdom, in the knowledge of 
the real truth, while he treasures in his heart that filial respect 
which this life-giving conception of God first inspired in him. 

After the Catechism, let us examine the Creed. In a few 
words it answers all our longings. And once again I will appeal 

* Compare the first of the Thirty-nine Articles : "There is but one living and 
true God, everlasting, without body, parts, or passions ; of infinite power, 
wisdom, and goodness ; the Maker and Preserver of all things both visible and 
invisible." — Editok. 



18 



Sermon 3* 



to the little child to come and repeat that Creed learnt within the 
walls of a Christian school ; and the child will lift its eyes to 
Heaven and say, " 1 believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker 
of Heaven and earth." What a confession is here, my brethren ! 
And this same Article the Church has reiterated in all its 
Councils, while all tradition concurs to testify to its truth. This 
conception of God which we find in the Catechism and in the 
Creed is the same which God gave to Moses, and the first time 
it was written in the sacred books the problem was resolved in a 
few words. 

We will now leave for awhile the Catechism and the Creed, 
and we will endeavour, my dear brethren, to lift up our hearts to 
God. We are God's creatures, God's children ; and as a Father 
He will make Himself known to His own children. Let us, then, 
look up to Heaven and in our perplexity appeal to God now, as 
Moses did of old, " We are Thy children, oh ! Lord, and that 
we may all know Thee to be the true God, teach us how to think 
of Thee." * Ego sum qui sum: I am that 1 am. What a defini- 
tion ! How it fills the mind with light, and wonder, and praise. 
Yes ; oh ! Lord, Thou art not like the generations, which succeed 
each other and vanish away ; Thou art not like the Heavens and 
earth, which, like a parched scroll, will one day roll together in 
fire and flame ; Thou art not like the celestial planets, which, as 
they have had a beginning, will also have an end; Thou art 
essentially the one Supreme Being from everlasting to everlast- 
ing. Let us, however, analyse yet further, that we may better 
understand the full meaning contained in God's answer to man. 
God has said : I am the Supreme Being, the first cause of all 
that exists : The Being Who contains in Himself the reason of 
His existence ; the essential Being, therefore perfect, because, 



* Compare Exodus iii. 13-14 : — "And Moses said unto God, Behold, when I 
come unto the children of Israel, and shall say unto them, The God of your 
fathers hath sent me unto you ; and they shall say to me, What is His 
Name ? what shall I say unto them ? And God said unto Moses, I AM 
THAT I AM : and He said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, 
I AM hath sent me unto you." 



(Bob, 



10 



Doing essential in His nature, no will can limit His absolute 
wisdom ; perfect, because, being the origin of all creatures, He 
can only be conceived as perfect. All those perfections which in 
the creature are found mingled with defects, must exist in Him 
as the centre of all good in the undimmed fulness of their splen- 
dour. It is only by gradual stages that we can attain to even 
a faint perception of the full perfection of God, and we will begin 
by considering the elements of perfection, which, though marred 
by manifold imperfections, still exist in His creatures. What 
is it that we do find in God's creatures % We find, to a certain 
degree, unity, stability, continuance, grandeur, intelligence, 
beauty, and goodness. From this we should infer that in God 
is entire unity, absolute singleness, complete immutability, ever- 
lasting duration, supreme beauty, sublime goodness. In God is 
unity. He is and can only be One. There is, says St. Paul, " One 
Lord and one Faith." God is, in fact, infinite, and the nature 
of the Infinite is to be essentially one. In God is absolute 
singleness, and therefore with Him there can be no complexity, 
because He is a being all pure. God is the origin of all things, 
in His sublime singleness the sum of all perfection, and there is 
none upon earth in comparison of Him. In God is immutability ; 
in His Holy Word He has so recorded it. God is " not a man 
that He should lie," and He has said ' 6 1 am the Lord. I change 
not." And, in truth, if we think upon it, why should God change ? 
To become greater, better ? If He is absolute perfection, how 
could this be ? To become less than He is ? But then He 
would be no longer great. God is the Prime Mover of all things, 
Omnipotent ; you cannot dissociate the thought of power from 
God. Now as change implies force directing motion, God the 
Prime Mover of all things cannot change. In God is eternity. 
God is without beginning, and without end, because, if there 
were a limit to the existence of God, He would not be infinite. 
In God is immensity: God is everywhere, and in His absolute 
oneness God is infinite. Saint Augustine said : " Think of Him 
as Truth, as Wisdom." Objective truth is independent of time 
of space. Before the creation Truth existed in itself ; after the 



20 



Sermon 3* 



creation no being can be conceived which is riot conceived in 
Truth. Just as after the creation we cannot say that Truth 
moves from one place to another, so neither can we say that 
God moves from one place to another. The presence of God is 
everywhere, like truth, like wisdom. And what is the result of 
all this? The result is that, contrary to the teachings of the 
■sophists, " God is a Spirit," without body, indefinable. He the 
essence of all Being, reveals Himself to the world, and, so 
revealing Himself, becomes the source whence all creation derives 
life and movement, sense and intelligence. In God is wisdom, 
omniscience. Were it not so, He would be deficient in the most 
beautiful of perfections. Therefore for Him there is no past ; for 
Him there is no future ; for Him ail is present. In God is 
beauty. He is the source of all beauty in His creatures, the 
source of that which we call harmony, a combined essence of 
beauty and splendour beyond our highest conception, and in com- 
parison with which all the manifold charms of creation are but a 
feeble reflection. That beauty which is the ideal seen by Eaphael 
in the sublime conceptions of his genius, and which he despaired 
of representing on his immortal canvasses ; that beauty which is 
the embodiment of the lovely forms of the harmonious proportions 
dreamed of by the artist-soul of Phidias ; the harmony which fell in 
sweet soft cadences upon the ears of Mozart andEossini ; the poetry 
of nature, from the immensity of the ocean to the calm of the starry 
Heavens — all this is but a shadow in comparison with the 
beauty of God : that beauty to which every soul not sunk in vice 
aspires ; that beauty which forms even the happiness of God who 
contemplates it. In God is goodness. God is good essentially 
in Himself, and towards His creatures, on whom He pours His 
blessings, whom He recalls from their wanderings when they 
have gone astray, whom He patiently waits for, whom He 
abundantly pardons. Oh ! my brethren, it would be impossible 
for me to enumerate all the mysteries of the love and mercy of 
our God, the Incarnation, the Eucharist ; but it is enough to 
remember that God has created man to make him participate 
even with Himself in the immensity of His glory. Therefore, 



©CO* 21 

— " T**- » — 

my brethren, to comprehend Him, I would have you believe that 
He is at once invisible and all-seeing ; that He is incomprehen- 
sible and comprehends everything ; that, in Himself unchanging, 
He is the Prime Mover of all things : that He is eternal — in 
other words, that He had no beginning, and will have no end. I 
tell you this, and I tell you the truth, yet my words fall far 
short of the reality. To comprehend God I would have you 
believe that He is self- existent, living and reigning in the perfect 
fruition of His own glorious Godhead. I tell you this, and I tell 
you the truth ; and yet my words fall far short of the reality. 

To comprehend God I would have you believe that He is 
immense in His grandeur, without possibility of abstraction : that 
He belongs to all ages, independent of time ; that His will is law, 
His duration eternal. I tell you this, and I tell you the truth ; 
and yet my words fall far short of the reality. And now, if I 
were to gather into one every conceivable perfection of which 
humanity is capable, and exalt them far above the earth ; if I 
were to exalt them to the infinite expanse of Heaven, then — 
Behold God, my brethren ; I say — Behold our God ! And yet, 
after all, I have but stammered forth to you a faint idea, one feeble 
glimmering conception of the greatness of our God. God once 
made known to us, the true light dawns upon our minds, scat- 
tering the darkness before it, as, in the first morning of Creation, 
the Spirit of God moving upon the waters dispelled the darkness 
from the face of the deep. God once made known to us, our 
reason is no longer driven to wander aimlessly from this learning 
to that ; but in the strength of the knowledge of God, it has 
power not only to establish science upon earth, but to co-ordinate 
its scattered elements, and, by the light of eternal wisdom, may 
attain to the comprehension of the laws which govern the 
Universe. God, thus defined by religion, becomes the basis of a 
vast syllogism, which contains conclusions as wonderful as they 
are irresistible. Eeligion becomes at once a sacred necessity to 
man, for while, on the one hand, it extols the majesty and 
declares the attributes of God, on the other hand, by faith it 
makes known to man those ineffable privileges which are the 



22 



sermon 3* 



beautiful gift of God. God once made known to us, the social 
condition of mankind is traced to its eternal source. History 
which treats of man's origin, his past, his present, and his future ; 
history which treats of the natural and the supernatural, the 
heavens above and the earth beneath, things visible and things 
invisible — read history by the light of the wisdom of God, and how 
plain and simple does the confused record of the successive revolu- 
tions of States andEmpires appear to our minds ! By the same light 
we perceive how vast a field is opened before poetry and to the 
fine arts. In short, by the light of this faith creation is no longer 
an enigma — it is no longer gross matter organized by chance : it 
is the expression of one vast and noble design. Every being has 
its own place : every creature is so placed to co-operate with 
others in the formation of one beautiful whole. And — I appeal 
to those of refined and delicate taste — does not creation, looked 
at in this light, reveal to the mind of the artist a storehouse of 
inexhaustible treasure ? Poetry, when made to fulfil its original 
intention, may again become the divine expression of pure and 
refined thought. Music, by celestial harmony, may shed its holy 
influence upon our enraptured souls. Painting may again charm 
the sight by the representation of a lofty and pure ideal ; archi- 
tecture soar unchecked in its majestic flight ; and eloquence, once 
more golden-mouthed, transmit the truth to our souls. Every- 
thing is elevated, is ennobled in God ; but without God, my 
brethren, everything degenerates, everything becomes dark, fails, 
and dies. 

My brethren, I said that without God everything degenerates, 
everything becomes dark, everything fails and dies. Consider 
what becomes of history without God. History, that develop- 
ment of men and of nations through the course of ages, becomes 
a mere catalogue of meaningless events — a chaos void of light. 
Without God, what becomes of science ? God forbid, my brethren, 
that I should depreciate the efforts of modern scientists ; but 
when the latter will not be guided by the data of revelation, to 
what do they attain ? They handle external facts, external 
phenomena which admirably describe God's greatness, but they 



©CD, 



23 



can say nothing about the laws of development, about the origin 
of these phenomena ; they look at the surface, and, instead of 
constructing a beautiful, united whole, they construct a brilliant 
mosaic, if you will, but composed of parts which have no con- 
nection, no natural links. Hence that dissatisfaction which you 
find in the majority of modern scientists ; hence the contradictions, 
the degradations of science which, deprived of the first principle 
of life, becomes nothing but a corpse, and, as such, is vainly 
expected to benefit mankind. And man? What becomes of 
man without God ? Without God man knows not whence he 
comes, whither he goes, nor what he should be here below : he 
walks in the dark, and at every step he finds some stumbling- 
block in his way. In vain he questions his intelligence and the 
intelligence of his fellow- creatures, and the answer is an enigma 
to him. Misfortune comes, and he is driven to despair. Death, 
which none can escape, draws near ; or perhaps, worse still, it 
threatens some one object of our tenderest affections — a father, 
a mother, a brother, or sister — and then, oh ! my brethren, comes 
the first bitter punishment of those who are without God, for 
they must live on without consolation in their misery, and at the 
last must themselves die in despair. And the moral life of 
mankind, what becomes of that without God ? But, my brethren, 
if there is no God, there is then no future Judge to chastise the 
vice which is rampant upon earth: there is no one to judge 
between the persecutor and his victim. No more right ! no more 
wrong ! truth and justice are mere chimeras, and no more ! 
Further yet, what becomes of the organization of social life ? 
When man alone, without God, forms the basis of social life, 
social life falls to the ground because, authority being open to 
contest, the question of obedience becomes complicated and 
difficult. Lastly, without God, what is to become of the people ? 
My brethren, do not deceive yourselves. When the negation of 
God becomes general amongst the people, where can we hope to 
find any nucleus of order, any possibility of harmony or peace ? 
Without God union is no longer possible among ourselves, and 
everything falls asunder in disorder and confusion. Without 



24 



Sermon 3* 



God, as there is no unity of origin, so can there be no unity of 
purpose. Instead of a living union which claims our allegiance, 
which invites us to combine to fulfil the mystery of the eternal 
harmony of creation, we go our way blown about, like the dust 
of the highway, driven of the wind and tossed till we are at last 
landed in infinite despair. Without God there is no longer any 
brotherhood possible among mankind. Separate man from God, 
and he degenerates into a perpetual condition of enmity against 
his fellow creatures. Without God there can be no liberty, and 
in its stead reigns force, the antagonist of freedom. Without 
God there can be no stability, because how can we stand firm if 
we are not bound together by an essential principle of unity ? 
Without God the reign of force must inevitably be established 
upon the earth : one man armed against the other, a Socialistic 
war, which, far from promoting the peaceful division of property, 
would result in the most passionate dispute over every rood of 
land. The w T orld, without God, becomes one vast desert waste : 
the burning sand beneath our feet stretches into an illimitable 
horizon, and from the heavens above hope has vanished like the 
morning cloud, leaving us defenceless to the noontide blaze, so 
that we cannot choose, but scorch and wither beneath its inexor- 
able heat. 



Sermon 4. 



25 



IV. 

THE SOUL. 

My Brethren, — The existence of Almighty God is, then, a truth 
proved beyond all possibility of doubt, by the testimony of our 
own existence, by the testimony of all existing creation, by 
historical tradition — a certain fact which none can either gainsay 
or resist. We have asked 1 ' Who is God?" and the different 
philosophies of the w T orld have laboured to reply by definition, by 
description, but have only produced a total misconception of the 
truth. Religion, on the contrary, has been able to reveal His 
infinite perfection to our finite intelligence by the Creed, by the 
Catechism, by the authority of His Holy Word, and has taught 
us to know God, believing Him to be a Spirit of immeasurable 
purity and perfection: " God the Father Almighty, Maker of 
Heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible." 

Having thus recalled to our minds the true conception of 
Almighty God, let us now try to form a right idea of man ; and 
in truth, second only in importance to the ineffable problem of 
God, is that which relates to man, and which holds, in its turn, 
an imperative claim upon our consideration. It is indeed 
interesting to search out the constituent parts of electricity to find 
out the cause of heat. But all these problems are outside us : 
they have a mere relative value ; but we ? What are we our- 
selves ? Man has sought counsel of philosophy, of science ; but 
the mystery has ever remained impenetrable, because the learned 
man is acquainted with psychological and physiological phe- 
nomena, but he cannot soar above these. The mystery will 
always remain impenetrable as long as man seeks unaided for 
the solution of a problem of which revelation alone can discover 
the secret. Evolution, positivism, explain nothing, and the 
Epicurean philosophy, what is it but the negation of the soul, 
the negation of God ? These learned men seek to rob man of his 



26 



Sermon 4* 



immortal crown because, in so doing, they think also to rob God. 
The attempt is as vain as it is impious. God sees all around 
Him change ; but He, in His eternity, changes not. " They shall 
perish, but Thou remainest " ever in the midst of men to save 
them, and to recall them to a right understanding, first of Thy- 
self, God, and then of their own high calling. A right under- 
standing of man — this is what we will consider to-day, if you are 
willing to listen to me patiently. 

My Brethren, What is man ? What are we to think of him ? 
What position does he occupy in the vast hierarchy of created 
beings ? Let us first hear the answer of the Atheistic schools. 
Man is an organism which works neither more nor less than any 
other kind of mechanism. If you expect to find in him anything 
more than this, you will be deceived. And what of the soul? 
The soul has long ago been excluded from their calculations 
altogether ; and, in truth, how can you expect them to acknow- 
ledge its existence when they boast that their minutest investiga- 
tion has not succeeded in discovering its presence in any part of 
the construction of man ? Formerly, when science w T as in its 
infancy, it was w 7 ont to take refuge in the language of mysticism 
the better to conceal its own incapacity ; but to-day this mystical 
language is laid aside, and the non-acceptance of anything except 
facts attested by experience is laid down as a principle. Physio- 
logical observation presents to us nothing but a series of pheno- 
mena which are reciprocally generated, one inside the other, so 
that there is no interruption in this chain : everything is reduced 
to a system of transmutation and metamorphosis, almost similar 
to what we see in nature. We notice that from the force which 
is, at first, latent in matter, there issues, as soon as it becomes 
active, a series of marvellous effects, the one resulting from the 
other. Let us begin with an illustration from industrial labour, 
and let us take coal for an example. Coal is decomposed by heat, 
heat is maintained by movement, movement by labour, Science 
determines the various properties of these phenomena, and gives 
to each its equivalent value. Let us pass from this illustration 
to the mechanism of the living being. We see something 



Ube SouL 



l 27 



analogous : alimentation maintains heat, this generates move- 
ment ; but the origin of all is matter. The Materialists say : 
" If you wish us to admit the soul's existence, we must be con- 
vinced that it is produced by the physical organization of the 
human body. Apart, however, from the crudeness of the 
expression — which is of recent date — the system offers us nothing 
new. One of Socrates' interlocutors asked him the same question 
as he was in the act of drinking the hemlock. He replied, " May 
not the soul be the harmony caused by corporeal attributes, just 
as harmony is produced by aerial vibrations set. in motion by the 
strings of the zither ? " But I turn to the Sophists and say to 
them : ' < You will only admit facts." Well, then, let us adhere 
rigidly to this system, and take practical experience for our guide. 
What is man ? How do you know him ? I do not speak of 
simple superficial knowledge : I speak of the personal knowledge 
of each other as taken in the common acceptation of the word. 
My brethren, that you may know me, and that I may know you, 
it is necessary for us to interchange our opinions, our thoughts, 
our tastes ; then only can it be said that we know our fellow- 
creatures. For man has an inner nature besides his outw r ard 
aspect. The Materialists may be able to discern the innermost 
play of the physical organization, to follow it with their own eyes, 
to analyse its every motion, but they do not see that psychological 
effects are not the result of a nervous process alone, but are also 
due to phenomena of quite a different order. Let the Materialist, 
then, cease to teach any more his false science to youth — that 
science which would, by its own experimental method, stand 
self-convicted and self-condemned. Our soul is not to be probed by 
the scalpel of the surgeon or the anatomist ; and the wonder that 
they express at not being able to discover it in the course of 
their anatomical researches is to me no source of regret, for the 
day they do discover the soul in one of the globules of the 
brain, that day we shall no longer believe in the soul. God 
preserve you from those doctors who, having no belief in the- 
soul, are unable to take account of those moral dispositions which 
have so much influence on the health. God preserve you from 



28 



Sermon 4. 



those who give systematic soporifics which, under the pretence 
of sparing the patient a transient pain, make him run great risks. 
They do not believe in the soul, but their patient does, and this 
belief, which is a sacred trust, the doctor not only succeeds in 
betraying, but he also violates the sacred right of religious liberty. 
Now what is their basis for creating a dualism and for denying 
that which forms our greatness, our glory ? Bead their reviews, 
read their newspapers, listen to their speeches, they will soon 
tell you. They do not admit the soul's existence because the 
soul is a spiritual substance ; and the existence of a spiritual 
substance is impossible because they do not undersand it. Here 
is an argument indeed ! If they only admit that which they 
understand, ask them what, then, do they admit ? Their creed 
must be very limited. How, then, do they comprehend thought ? 
But, they add, the soul has never been made visible. But this is 
begging the question, it is arguing in an erroneous circle. What 
things should be made visible ? Objects which have bodily sub- 
stance ? To maintain that the soul should be made visible is to 
maintain that it is material, sensible. And to say " I do not 
believe in the soul, because it has never been made visible," is to 
say: "I do not believe in the soul, because a spiritual soul is 
not a material soul." We have searched everywhere for the 
soul, they say, and we have never succeeded in discovering it. 
But where have they searched for it ? In an anatomical labora- 
tory, in a dissected body. Here lies their mistake ! They hold, 
indeed, in their hand the empty cage, but the bird which sings in 
the woods has escaped out of it. These people are like visitors, who 
call upon you when they know you are not at home ! Let them 
go and search for the soul in living men, not in the lifeless corpse ; 
let them stand beside the artist when he is placing upon the 
canvas the representation of his ideal,* they will find the soul 

* We are reminded of the lines of Du Eresnoy in The Art of Painting : — 
Thy last, thy noblest task remains untold. 
Passion to paint, and sentiment unfold , 
Yet how these motions of the mind display, 
Can colours catch them, or can lines pourtray ? 
Who shall our pygmy pencils arm with might, 
To seize the soul and force her into sight t 

—Editor. 



TLbc SouL 



20 



there. Let them approach anyone who is troubled in conscience, 
or in mental distress, and the evidence of the soul will be found 
there, A learned psychologist, wishing to make his little pupils 
understand that they had a soul as well as a body, one day went 
into the room where they were waiting for him. He turned to 
one of the pupils, struck him, and pointed to the door ; the child 
cried and went away. He turned to another, gave him a letter, 
and also pointed to the door ; the child cried and went away. 
The lesson began, and the master asked the other pupils why the 
first child cried, and they answered : ' ' Because he was beaten ; 
because he was threatened." He asked them why the second 
child . cried, and not one of them could answer. He said : 
" Because this one also received a blow, but it w T as a moral, and 
not a physical blow ; that letter brought him the news of his 
mother's death." Then the children understood that they 
possessed within themselves something infinitely nobler than 
mere physical existence. Do you wish to find your own soul? 
Meditate, question yourselves, and you will find yourselves com- 
muning with it, acknowledging its existence, its spirituality. In 
fact — answer me — do you not often say I think ? When you say 
I think, you practically say "I exist. 1 ' Do you not say I feel ? 
If, then, you say I feel, you must necessarily add I exist. Do you 
not say 1 will ? Then if you say I mil, again you say, only in 
other words, I exist. There is always an I who thinks, who feels, 
who wills ; an I who believes, who speaks, who acts : it is the 
soul, the soul which exists without your body, in spite of your 
body. Although the soul is closely united to your body, it 
always remains distinct from it. And do you wish to see it, to 
touch it ? Listen. Are you not always saying I in all phases of 
your existence ? 7 in childhood, I in youth, I in manhood, I in 
middle age, 1 in old age ? Yes, the child whose imagination 
flitted like a butterfly from flower to flower on the path of life 
was I. Yes, the youth, abandoned to pleasure, lapped in soft 
affections, was I. Yes, the young man now succumbing to, now 
triumphing over, his passions was L Yes, the mature man who 
has begun to understand life's delusion, was L Yes, the old man who 



80 



Sermon 4* 



begins to weep over his errors was I — always I. And meanwhile 
I change daily ; meanwhile the matter of which my body is com- 
posed changes daily, and resembles one wave which succeeds 
another ; and yet I say I — always I. But how would this be 
possible if it were matter which said 17 " Man's body," says a 
master of contemporary science, " is composed of materials which 
are being constantly renewed ; all the parts of the human body 
are subject to perpetual transformation ; every day you lose 
something of your physical being, and by alimentation you renew 
it. At the end of eight years you have substituted new flesh and 
new bones for those which you had at first ; the hand with 
which you write to-day is not composed of the same materials as 
that with which you wrote eight years ago." It is the same with 
your brain ; your skull does not contain now the same materials 
it contained eight years ago." Well, then, this being true, 
how comes it that we remember the things we learnt eight years 
ago ? If these things are encrusted in the globules of the brain 
(as they say), how is it they survive their total extinction ? The 
globules are metamorphosed, and meanwhile memory preserves 
the treasures stored in it, 

There exists, then, something besides matter, something 
permanent, something living, which is distinct from the thread 
of life. It is not only thus that the soul manifests itself, but 
more especially by its workings, which surpass all the force of 
matter. In fact, your soul thinks, Now thought and the mani- 
festation of thought are essentially simple : it suffices to bring 
forward this proposition in order to feel its truth. Hitherto no 
-one has discovered a measure by which to calculate thought. 
Who can measure a tenth of affirmation ; five hundredths of per- 
ception ; the plus and minus of a will ? Well then, my brethren, 
how can this product, which is essentially simple, issue from any 
kind of complexity? " And why not ? " replies the Materialist. 
Is not thought a product of the brain ? When the brain is dis- 
ordered, thought is disordered also ; when there is no more 
phosphorus, there is no more thought. Thought has always 
t>een a geometrical proof of existence, of the spirituality of our 



Ube Soul. 



81 



soul. The clock indicates the time, but the clock does not make 
the time ; there is a great difference between the conditions which 
influence phenomena and the cause which generates them. 
Consider that thought exists even when man sleeps ; consider 
how it can imagine millions of stars besides those discovered by 
astronomy. Then as regards the proportion which has been 
established in the present day between the brain and the intelli- 
gence, the baffled Materialist does not put forward a serious 
argument, because this is only a broad approximation, which 
explains the brain's action upon sensibility. And this principle 
suffices to explain the psychological phenomena of insanity. 
Some may, however, remark ; " but, Padre, it is obvious that you 
are not acquainted with modern discoveries." I ask " Which ? " 
The transfusion which has been practised on the heads of 
animals, by means of which vital and psychological phenomena 
are seen to appear and disappear ? And what conclusion does 
this lead to ? That, possibly, intelligence lies in the blood, in the 
brain ? Materialists say : " The brain is an instrument organized 
for the manifestation of the intellect. If one condition of its pro- 
duction fails, the manifestation does not take place ; if it is restored 
before any change has happened ; the manifestation will take 
place." But this is not enough, my brethren ; the soul does 
not only think : it determines. You see a man and you say 
that man is good, or he is bad. To determine there must be 
conformity or non- conformity between the subject and the attri- 
bute, and a faculty is necessary to unite two ideas. Can this 
faculty be matter ? No. The faculty we possess of comparing 
and determining has nothing to do with matter. But this is 
not all. The soul does not only think and determine : it creates. 
And what does it create ? General ideas in the abstract — that 
is, things which have no real existence in nature. Now if matter 
were the source of my knowledge, it ought only to show me 
superficial objects, not general ideas in the abstract. But this 
is not all. The soul does not only think, determine, create : it 
wills. My brethren, who does not feel that he possesses this, 
the greatest gift God has given his creature? — Will! Liberty! 



32 



Sermon 4* 



Who has not heard that cry common to all mankind : a cry 
which will not be stifled ? — I will. And they want to persuade 
me that this is fate ; but I feel that I am free : I feel that 
I will because I will, that I can speak or hold my peace, move or 
be still ; that within an enslaved body I possess a free soul, and 
consequently, if the soul were nothing but matter, the testimony 
of our conscience would be utterly absurd. But this is not all. 
The soul does not only think, determine, create, will : the soul 
orders the body. And if it were a product of matter, how could 
it order the body ? A man has received a blow ; his blood boils, 
he raises his arm, his hand is on the point of striking, when, 
suddenly, his arm is stayed, his hand falls ; what has happened ? 
The soul has ordered, the body has obeyed, the man has forgiven 
his assailant. My brethren, call to mind our martyrs, cast into 
prison, beaten, scourged. They smiled under the hands of the 
executioner, and, whilst their body was a prisoner, their soul was 
free. And which of you, my brethren, has not sometimes felt his 
soul say to his body : " Awake, and lift up thyself, frail frame- 
work of mortality ! Listen to thy Master's voice." Who has not 
known one hour at least in the course of his life when the soul 
was lord of the body? If there is one who has not 
known this hour, I pity him, I compassionate him, for he has 
some excuse for being a Materialist ; but if for one moment in 
his lifetime only he has overcome this rebel matter, he must 
have acknowledged a force which is not to be weighed in scales : 
a force which men can describe by no material name — they call 
it the soul. 

Let us, however, leave this abject Materialism ; let us again 
appeal to our holy religion and learn from the sacred pages of the 
Gospel the answer to our question " What is man?" " What 
am I ? " and religion replies, " Man is a rational being, composed of 
soul and body." It bids us turn to the sacred writings and read 
the history of Creation. " God said, Let us make man in our 
image, after our likeness : and let them have dominion over the 
fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, 
and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth 



XTbc Soul. 



33 



upon the earth" (Genesis i. 26). In these few words, behold 
our greatness. Man is the child of the earth : he is taken out of 
it, formed of the dust of the ground ; yet he has dominion over 
the earth. But if man is king over the earth, it is because there 
is in him an element which is not of the earth, and this is what 
we learn from religion : " Then shall the dust return to the earth 
as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God Who gave it" 
(Eccles. xii. 7). Behold, and see how immense is the work of 
Creation ! And where is the spirit ? When God had formed 
man's body of the dust of the ground, He " breathed into his 
nostrils the breath of life ; and man became a living soul " 
(Genesis ii. 7). The spirit, sustained and nourished with I know 
not what invisible sustenance, rises superior to all earthly matter. 
Men have been found who have died for virtue, for honour ; and 
not only have they given up their own life, but that of a woman they 
loved of their children, impelled to do so by some invisible claim 
upon the visible form. These are the two elements which are to be 
found in man : the one is contained pent up in the body, the other 
Oh ! my brethren, do you not feel that your soul is mount- 
ing upwards even now with wings as angels ? But why has God 
willed this union so beautiful and so sublime ? God has given 
man a soul in order by it to lift up out of the dust the whole 
created world. My brethren, is it not true that this doctrine 
enables us at once to comprehend what man should be with 
regard to religion, in his home and in his social relationship to 
his fellow-men ? Man, the image of God, the expression of His 
Divine wisdom, enters with his whole being into communication 
with God. Man, made in the image of God, is clothed with a 
principle of authority, of dominion ; it is in God's Name that he 
rules, that he owns what has been given him, or that he acquires 
possession by means of the faculties he has received from God. 
Man, made in the image of God, must be either united to Him 
or separated from Him, according as he has acted well or ill. In 
himself man is not of much account : he is, in truth, but an 
exile, who longs for his own country : he is the victim of many 
illusions ; but Christianity, the glorious religion of Jesus Christ, 

D 



34 



Sermon 4* 



may make him a hero or a saint. Take away Christianity, put 
Materialism in the place of Christianity, and yon see man's 
dignity and grandeur vanish into thin air, and with them, first 
religion, then morality, and, as a natural consequence, the social 
order and welfare of mankind. 

My brethren, take away Christianity, put Materialism in the 
place of Christianity, and you see man's dignity and grandeur 
vanish before your eyes, and with them first religion, then 
morality, and, as a natural consequence, the social order and 
welfare of mankind. In the first place, religion. According to 
the doctrine of Materialism, man can only act from necessity ; 
therefore, Materialism destroys God's influence over men, it 
causes man to forget his duties towards God, and it is the 
absolute negation of all religion. But Materialism is at the 
same time the negation of morality. Where would virtue be 
without the soul, and the security provided by its thoughts, 
desires, and aspirations ? What would become of duty ? Duty 
and virtue would consist in following our natural impulse ; and 
in the pursuit of all kinds of pleasure, all means would be 
legitimate. This alone tells us how Materialism annuls at once 
the Decalogue and the moral law. 

This abject Materialism has been invented to release the 
passions from the curb of restraint, and yet Materialism speaks 
of duty, liberty, responsibility. It says again, " Do good: keep 
yourselves from evil " ; but, I ask, is this the language of reason % 
You speak to me of liberty, and you say that I am subject to the 
forces which rule matter. You speak to me of good and evil, 
and you teach me that I am only an apparatus of matter organized 
by chance ; that the soul will cease to exist when this apparatus 
falls to pieces. But why, then, not speak of the responsibilities 
of duty and liberty to a piece of falling granite, or to a hurricane 
let loose? Why not preach moderation to the wild beasts of the 
forest, or regard for life to the plants which poison us ? And, I 
ask you, what is this if not the kingdom of universal bondage ? 
And, further, where can you hope to find morality in this 



Ube SouL 



35 



kingdom ? You will find there not virtue, but pleasure; not vice, 
but suffering. If there are rights, they are those of the strongest ; 
if there is a duty, it is only that of sacrificing everything to 
individual caprice ; if there is a law, it is that of the ocean which 
swallows up the mariner and his ship : that of the tiger which 
tears its prey in pieces ; if there were a Government, it would be 
corrupt ; and if there were a Prince, he would be a Domitian, who 
rejoiced in the agony and tears of his victims, who wallowed in a 
nation's blood. I say that Materialism causes the destruction 
of ail social order. Social order is based upon the rights and 
duties of the individual, upon the rights of property, upon the 
liberty of the subject. All these rights vanish before Materialism, 
which recognises alone the right of enjoyment. 

Strange system of contradiction, which contains every element 
of destruction in its bosom ! It thinks to have done something 
wonderful by proclaiming man's rights ; but where it has 
succeeded in making man independent of God, it has but given 
his social welfare over as a prey to passions which can know 
neither remorse nor restraint. The society of Materialists would 
resemble a den of savages, and that of wild beasts would be less 
dangerous. The ties of home, of society, would become slackened ; 
attempts against life, against honour, against property, would 
increase ; crimes become more atrocious ; morality would become 
nothing but a name ; and the passion for wealth, as the means 
of gratifying our every wish, would rule with undivided sway. 
In the society of Materialists you perceive the agency of a dual 
spirit : the spirit of rebellion and the spirit of servility ; of 
rebellion against everything which can hold the passions in check ; 
of servility towards everything waich can be made to gratify 
them. But, my brethren, what is to be done ? We must cast 
into the teeth of materialistic doctrine the famous w r ords " Away 
with the base creed ! " It makes everything impossible : virtue, 
nobility — even the liberty of our native country. And to those 
who would teach Materialism to us, we should reply firmly and 
with dignity in the words of Napoleon: ' 'Away with you! I 
will have nothing to do with a man who believes himself to be 



30 



Sermon 4* 



nothing more than the dust of the earth : who thinks himself a 
beast, and would persuade me that I am a beast myself also." 
What is to be done ? I would advise a repetition of what an 
eccentric Englishman once did. He was in the habit of spending 
his evenings with his friends, and one evening the conversation 
turned upon the evolution of matter. After having refuted it 
step by step, he suddenly drew back a curtain, behind which he 
had concealed a horrible ourang-outang, magnificently dressed ; 
he pointed to it and said: " If any of you acknowledge this 
gentleman as your ancestor, let him shake hands with him. I, 
for my part, will have nothing to do with him." 



Sermon 5* 



87 



V. 

THE SPIRITUALITY OF THE SOUL. 

My Bkethren, — Man possesses moral and intellectual faculties 
which cannot be accounted for by any created form of matter, and 
therefore we need not be at any great pains to disprove Materialism, 
and the strange theories it puts forward in order to bring us 
within the narrow circle of animal existence. Such reasoning, 
denied and rejected by science, becomes, when pushed to its 
conclusion, absurd. Judge for yourselves. If we were obliged 
to believe in the anthropology of the Materialist, man would 
have derived his origin from the beast, which would gradually 
have lost its animal's skin, tempered the ferocity of its jaws, 
developed a high forehead, and donned that first prerogative of 
man's free nature — a form as beautiful as that of the Caucasian 
race. This is the materialistic theory of the origin of mankind. 
You will say this is an exaggeration on my part. No ; I 
have told you the true meaning of the materialistic doctrine. 
Some German writers, who call themselves philosophers, have 
been cynical enough to write: "Even at the cost of humbling 
man's pride, we declare that man is of animal origin.' 7 Yes ; 
this has been said and written in Germany, repeated in France, 
and in our own Italy there have been writers who have had the 
misapplied patience to clothe the ugly German prose in our 
beautiful language. And this ugly prose has been, and still is, 
highly commended. No, my brethren, it is not our pride which 
is humbled, but it is the soul which lifts up its voice in protest 
against this doctrine which has been invented merely for the 
purpose of obliterating the seal of God from our foreheads. But 
we exclaim: "Away with this doctrine, for it is contrary t<s 
reason and science," and we say it in the name of man's free 
will ; in the name of the heart which loves ; in the name of all 
that is eternal and infinite, of which the idea is latent in our 



Sermon §♦ 



minds ; in the name of the body whose beauty manifests man's 
superiority over the animal kingdom ; in the name of the eyes 
which reflect the passions of the soul. We reject this vague 
doctrine which seeks to place us in the same category as apes. 
We abhor it, because it gives the lie to good sense and to 
reason. We abhor it, moreover, because it renders impossible 
science, truth, art, religion, which, divine in their origin, have 
neither part nor lot with Materialism. It is the soul which creates, 
the soul which inspires art, and through art transforms and 
elevates matter. And why ? That the soul may thus be raised 
to religion and to God, The subject is an important one ; it is also 
difficult and delicate. I find myself in the heart of a city which, 
we may say, has been the cradle of science, of art, of virtue. We 
cannot walk a step in Florence without coming across the traces 
of learned men, of artists, of saints, and holy men ; and yours is 
their inheritance. Your presence will inspire me, and even if 
I do not find myself inspired, I shall at least be sure of your 
sympathy. 

My brethren, there are four natural tendencies of the soul. 
The soul naturally tends towards truth, and beauty, and goodness, 
and to God, Who is the source of truth, and goodness, and 
beauty. These tendencies of the soul belongs to its spiritual 
character, and through them man is raised to God. These 
tendencies are, it is true, deduced from internal evidence, but 
they are so obviously manifested that there is no room for doubt. 
They are natural instincts : they are produced by the normal 
development of our faculties : they cause the soul to act ; they 
act as incentives to continual motion which show themselves in 
the following unquestionable forms of activity : science, virtue, art, 
religion: four proofs that our soul is of spiritual origin. 

Let us begin with science. The soul creates science, and 
through science rules matter. We are here in the presence of a 
fact which the Materialist cannot deny. Let us examine the 
characteristics of this fact. What is science ? Science is the 
aggregate of certain cognitions, or species of knowledge, attained by 
precepts originating from one principle : it presupposes the unity 



XTbe Spirituality of tbe SouL 



39 



and certainty of our cognitions ; it is the clear perception of the 
same cause, of the same law manifested in different effects. Our 
reason knows how to simplify and reduce to unity the causes and 
laws of these effects. Therefore, science supposes the unity of 
our cognitions. Now by what means is this unity to be attained ? 
What is its distinguishing characteristic ? The distinguishing 
characteristic is generalization. The soul generalizes, and this is an 
indispensable operation, because, without it our knowledge would 
be confined to individual instances. If individual instances form a 
starting point for science, they cannot be its goal. Science could 
not adapt itself to that which is individual : it tends to that which is 
immutable, universal. Science aims at stability and permanency 
in objects : science seeks for that which is lasting : it aims at 
that which is general. When you speak of science, you give an 
idea of permanency, of generality. You cannot have any know- 
ledge of science without these two conditions. Any science based on 
individual instances would be inexact and useless : inexact because 
individual instances are never alike : useless, because from indi- 
vidual instances no data can be deduced with any certainty. Science 
cannot be the starting-point of the practical exercise of thought. 
In truth, what would be the use of geometry if it only consisted 
in the figure traced upon the slate ? In order that science may be 
true and fruitful in result, it must of necessity aim at that which is 
general. How can it attain to this generalization. Every living 
being presents two kinds of characteristics : accidental charac- 
teristics and essential characteristics. Accidential characteris- 
tics constitute his individuality ; essential characteristics are 
common to him with others : They act as a link to unite him 
in both categories. How has man formed the ideal conception 
of the sphere which we have seen traced on the slate ? We 
know, that this conception cannot be represented by a material 
form because it is outside every form. Instead of painting 
a single human form, would it be possible to paint an abstract 
or general idea of the whole human race ? Would it be absurd 
— yes or no ? — to pretend that these conceptions are in them- 
selves material ? Yes ; it would certainly be an absurdity to 



40 



Sermon 5. 



advance any such pretence. Therefore, they are spiritual, and 
these being caused by the soul, the soul also is spiritual. I know 
.not how the Materialists can escape from this demonstration. 
There is, in fact, no science for the Materialist if he adheres 
rigidly to his materialistic creed. The Materialist can but do 
one thing : he can place the results of observation side by side ; 
but as soon as he generalizes he contradicts himself, and he 
shows that his convictions can have no serious issue because 
they can have no logical consequence. When Materialists 
endeavour to reason, they are compelled to contradict their 
fundamental dogma. Therefore, they are wrong both ways — 
first, when they lay down the principle of accepting nothing which 
has not been proved by experience ; then, when they speak of 
science and take no account of logic. And do you know why 
this is ? Because, besides the principles laid down by the school, 
there are the principles of nature, which are imperious. Natural 
sciences, although they have matter for their object, are also 
outside matter. And this is why man rules matter by means of 
science, because he compels the blind forces of matter to serve 
him, and with these forces he governs the material universe. 
His body is but an atom of the universe : his soul is its king. 

Let us pass on to art. The soul inspires art, and then art 
transforms and elevates matter. Let us keep strictly to facts, other* 
wise the Materialist might elude our grasp. Art is a real, posi- 
tive fact, which cannot be denied. It manifests itself in master- 
pieces which are the pride and glory of nations. Let us look at 
these masterpieces, that we may inquire into their cause and 
their effect. First, their cause, which is to be found in the mind 
of the artist who created them ; secondly, the effect they produce 
upon the soul, which is. brought within their influence. Speak- 
ing of the artist, of his masterpieces, of the effects he produces, 
we may say that he works a double metamorphosis : first, he 
transforms matter through the ideal ; secondly, he works a trans- 
formation in the soul through the idealization of matter. Under 
both these aspects you will find a proof of the spirituality of our 
soul. The first will give you the essence, the second the sublime 



XTbe Spirituality of tbc Soul. 



41 



mission of art. Let ns develop the first aspect. By common 
consent the science of art consists in the correct expression ot 
beaut)' in all its fulness. What is beauty ? Or, rather, what i? 
the true conception of beauty, the intuition of which constitutes 
the artist? "Beauty" said Plato, with his usual depth and 
simplicity — 44 Beauty is the truth in its splendour." That is tc 
say, it is the truth clothed with such a resplendent form, with 
such light, that not only does it reveal itself to the mind as an 
idea, but it enraptures the heart as the living expression of the 
idea ; it sets' in motion all the great faculties of man ; it constrains 
the heart to admiration and love. This is the source of the 
emotion we experience at the sight of real beauty. And what is 
the principle of beauty ? It is the principle of order, harmony, 
proportion, which, evident in the created object, can yet be dis- 
tinguished from it. And how do we conceive beauty ? Beauty 
is conceived by abstraction. We must soar above the material 
object, give ourselves up to imagination, and then imagination 
has power to conceive the ideal — that imperishable model which 
is always ready to pose for the contemplation of thought : the ideal ! 
You will say: 44 Here is a man who takes fancy for reality." 
No ; look into your own soul ; do you not find that it has a 
tendency to conceive, to express the ideal ? When you stand 
before some beautiful object, can you not summon up an idea of 
something yet more beautiful ? Question the true artist : ask 
him if he draws inspirations from material objects. He will 
reply 44 that they come to him from a higher source." May we 
not call genius that creative faculty which endeavours to originate 
and express some form of beauty greater than any which has been 
conceived hitherto ? Buonarroti used to say : 44 The soul of the 
artist does not pause in its sublime flight, but still soars upwards 
in search of the origin of universal beauty." No matter if in the 
present day there exists a school which pretends to set itseli 
against these traditions. The disciples of this school may be 
good technical painters, but they will never be artists. If the 
artist could do nothing but imitate nature, his works would have 
neither use nor influence.* The artist must put into his works 



42 



Sermon 5. 



something of Ms own ; he must express an idea which he has 
himself conceived. Of what use is it thai he expresses powerfully 
some aesthetic idea ? Art is not made to deceive the eye, other- 
wise the photographer would be the greatest of all artists, t To 
the artist nature appears transformed through the fire of his 
enthusiasm, through the prism of his imagination. Art consists 
in expressing the principles of universal beauty. An artist, 
worthy of the name, does not seek inspiration in the material 
beauty of still life : nay, he looks for something which surpasses 
finite, visible beauty : he seeks infinite, invisible beauty, and thus 
by the power of thought he attains to all the sublime forms of the 
beautiful. The higher he rises, the better these glowing forms 
appear to fulfil the ideal of his mind. Then, fired with heavenly 
enthusiasm, he pursues his upward flight ; and as he traverses 
the sublime spheres of thought, each one more sublime than the 



* Compare Sir Joshua Reynolds : — " There are excellencies in the art of 

painting beyond what is commonly called the imitation of nature The 

wish of the genuine painter must be more extensive ; instead of endeavouring 
to amuse mankind with the minute neatness of his imitations, he must 
endeavour to improve them by the grandeur of his ideas ; instead of seeking 
praise by deceiving the superficial sense of the spectator, he must strive for 

fame by captivating the imagination It is this intellectual dignity, they 

say, that ennobles the painter's art, that lays the line between him and the mere 
mechanic, and produces those great effects in an instant which eloquence and 
poetry by slow and repeated efforts are scarcely able to attain. The arts, both 
of poetry and painting, are not addressed to the gross senses ; but to the desires 
of the mind, to that s'parlc of divinity which we have within, impatient of being 
circumscribed and pent up by the world which is around us. J ust so much as 
our art has of this, just so much of dignity (I had almost said of divinity) it 
exhibits, and those of our artists who possessed this mark of distinction in the 
highest degree acquired from thence the glorious appellation of Divine " (Disc. 
XIIL)— Editor. 

t " If deceiving the eye were the only business of the art, there' is no doubt, 
indeed, but the minute painter would be more apt to succeed ; but it is not the 
eye, it is the mind which the painter of genius desires to address ; nor will he 
waste a moment upon those smaller objects, which only serve to catch the 
sense, to divide the attention, and to counteract his great design of speaking to 
the heart." — Ibid. 



XTbc Spirituality of the SouL 



48 



last, new splendours radiant and yet more radiant reveal them- 
selves to his mind. Not content with contemplation, he feels he 
must seize and haply retain something of the ineffable vision. 
The subject appears transfigured before him. He works at it 
with eager, trembling hand. There are times when the ideal 
seems about to succumb to matter ; but, not discouraged, he 
renews his labours, he makes at last one supreme effort, and 
there, on the canvass before your eyes, behold and see the " Last 
Supper " of Leonardo da Vinci. How speaking in its truth to 
life, and how sublime ! It is in the power of creation that man 
" shows likest " God the Creator of all things. And now let us 
glance at the artist. He is standing in front of his masterpiece, 
and, my brethren, what do we see ? The glow of intense fervour 
which shene in his eyes while in the act of creating his picture 
has vanished. Traces of sadness appear on his brow : his eyes 
are filled with tears : and in a frenzy of vexation and despair he 
flings away from him his artist's tools. Why is this ? What is 
the reason of his sadness, his vexation, his despair ? Because 
that which he saw, because that which appeared to him in his 
heavenly vision was infinitely more beautiful than that which he has 
been able to portray. But the Materialists return to the charge : 
" Have you not said that the artist transforms matter through 
the ideal, and that he works a transformation in the soul through 
the idealization of matter ? but whether matter be idealized or 
not, it still remains matter ? And why should not souls also, though 
transformed by the idealization of matter, remain material still ? " 
We now reach the mission of art. By the transfiguration of matter 
the artist transfers his sentiments to the soul of the spectator ; 
he aw r akens in it an ardent enthusiasm for the beautiful ; he 
carries it to the summit of art, and bids it share in his tremulous 
joy : in the excitement and awe produced by the sense of the 
sublime. Young artists ! have you not experienced something of 

this feeling ? If not, go into your picture galleries, and look at 
one of the masterpieces there. Or else go into one of your 
libraries, take up your Dante, open it at the Canto of the Conte 

Ugolino, or at that of Francesco, da Rimini. Bead on in wonder 



44 



Sermon 5. 



and delight : give your young enthusiasm the rein, and, as you 
seize the idea in the fulness of its beauty, you will find that the 
power of the creative genius of the artist has also entered into 
your soul and you will behold what he beheld. Let the Materialist 
examine a masterpiece from a mere scientific point of view, and 
then let him tell me what he finds in it. He finds neither beauty, 
nor ideal, nor art, because these things cannot be materialised. 
Beauty is immaterial ; beauty is intangible ; beauty is incompre- 
hensible. In every production of the fine arts there exist two 
elements : the conception, and the outward expression of that 
conception — that is, the symbol or the sign of it. The concep- 
tion and the sign or symbol are not identical. The artist does 
not labour to create a material thing. Do you think to find 
Bossini's Stabat Mater in the musical scores which are sold in the 
shops ? You may find there the material part of it : the staves 
and the notes. Or perhaps it is in the musical vibrations of the 
instruments ? But these sounds can be transmitted by telephone. 
Harmony passes through the ear to the brain ; but the ear and 
brain of a corpse are not open to receive it. It is the soul alone 
which can appreciate and enjoy it. 

But to bring this reasoning to its conclusion. The secret of 
the artist lies in his power to idealize and transform material 
objects. He cannot have this power without spirituality of soul. 
The mission of art is, by means of this latent power in the artist, 
to work a similar transformation in the soul of the spectator. But 
this power is only the outward sign, which would be but an empty 
symbol, without force or influence, if devoid of the inward and 
spiritual sense. It is then in vain to look in the dictionary of 
the Materialist for the description of either truth or beauty. 
These are ideas which he is equally at a loss to conceive or to 
express, and the pages which would record them must remain 
blank. And for his art, it can only be described as mere vandalism, 
and nothing else. The artist's spark of divinity is at once stifled 
and extinguished by the cold material laws of such a system, and 
such a school is no fit place for art, the child of liberty and 
impulse. You may as well ask of the darkness, light ; of life, 



Zhc Spirituality of the SouL 



death ; for in the Creed of the Materialist you may indeed find 
the grave, but never the cradle of truth. 

My brethren, the soul does not only create science, and by 
science rule matter ; the soul does not only inspire art, and by art 
idealize matter ; the soul practises virtue, and by virtue triumphs 
over the forces of matter. It cannot be denied that man is a free 
agent ; it is evident that this free agency is of spiritual origin. 
Now the spiritual nature of this free agency becomes most 
apparent when we sacrifice material to moral blessings. The 
conception of what is good and what is noble, as distinguished 
from what is useful and what is pleasant ; the conception of the 
general welfare of mankind, as opposed to individual advantage — 
these conceptions belong to an order of ideas which have nothing 
to do with flesh and blood. There was once, I know, a philosopher 
who sought for the origin of this idea in a child's soul. This 
philosopher observed that a child called good that which made an 
agreeable impression upon him, then he drew a general inference 
from the individual instance, and concluded that " moral emotions 
were only refined physical sensations, emanations of matter." I 
am not careful to follow the subtleties of this man's argument, but 
I will observe that a conception is spiritual not only in so far as 
it is a general conception, but in so far as it leads to complete self- 
sacrifice. Prom the young mother who gives her life for her son, 
from the soldier who sheds his blood for his country, to the sister 
of charity who forsakes the attractions of the world, the comforts 
of home life, to give herself up to the relief of the poor, you see 
all the varied forms of devotion and sacrifice fulfilled before your 
eyes, And, on the other hand, if the law of self-sacrifice is not 
practised by all, it commands universal respect. " Although 
there are many bad people," said Rousseau, " few are insensible 
to wickedness." Greater than the highest triumph of science or 
art is that of duty at the cost of self-sacrifice. Who did not feel 
his. heart beat when, not long ago, we read in the newspapers the 
account of the catastrophe which came upon our brethren who 
fell while defending the national flag in a foreign land ? And it 
will be long before out hearts cease to beat for such a recollection. 



4G 



Sermon 5. 



But if we were nothing but matter, how could man experience 
these impulses ? How could he be capable of heroism himself, 
or able to admire it in his fellow-men? The creed of the 
Materialist with one deadly blow seeks to cause the destruction 
of all that is beautiful and noble upon the earth. Eeligion and 
patriotism combine to repel the doctrine with horror. And from 
the depth of its misery and degradation, hemmed in on all sides 
by false delusions, deceiving and being deceived, humanity raises 
in piteous supplication a prayer to Heaven. Now, not long ago 
the newspapers reported the following anecdote : "A disciple of 
the Materialist school captured an eagle ; he held it in his hands, 
and exclaimed, as he kissed it : 6 What a beautiful bird ! what 
mighty wings ! what mighty talons ! Is not this the triumph of 
matter ? What is there upon earth greater than matter ? At 
that moment he heard the voice of his child praying : he enters 
the room, and finds his child upon his knees, his hands folded in 
prayer, and his eyes raised to Heaven. And suddenly the meaning 
of prayer flashes across the man's mind. ' Ah ! ' he exclaimed, 
* the eagle, it is true, is stronger than my child, but my child is 
the child of Almighty God, and my child prays to God.' " 

My brethren, listen to the conclusion I would urge upon your 
thoughts. Italy — our Italy — has been ever foremost in science 
and in art. The saints and holy men of Italy are, moreover, her 
glory and her crown ; and now the question forces itself upon me, 
Can Italy preserve this glory if she falls a victim to the doctrine 
of the Materialist ? Soon, I hope — and it will be only just that 
it should be so — there will be a monument raised in Italy to the 
brave men who fell on the battlefield in the cause of the nation — 
men who, marching under the country's banner, handed it on 
from one to the other, till at last all lay dead, but not vanquished, 
upon the field. Many a loving hand will help to raise that 
monument, many a fond tear will be shed over it, and when Italy, 
pointing to it with pride, calls upon the foreigner to see the 
witness of her son's heroism, and upon her children to follow their 
example, then let her listen to the warning voice of religion : " 
Italy ! where will be thy children's valour, where will be their 



XTbe SpirituaUtB ot the Soul. 



47 



heroism, if they are ensnared by the Materialist doctrines which, 
are being sown broadcast o'er the land?" And Italy, wise in 
time, will join hands with Christianity to cast out utterly the 
base, unworthy creed. 



43 



Sermon 6. 



VI. 

THE IMMOBTALITY OP THE SOUL. 

My Brethren, — Man is a being composed of soul and body. The 
soul's existence and spirituality are proved by the consciousness 
of our identity, and by certain active powers which surpass all 
the forces of matter, and which, as have been obviously proved 
by science, art, virtue, religion, can only be attributed to the 
soul. Is this soul to perish with the body, or will it live after it ? 
There are many delusions in the world, but of all the delusions 
invented to lead captive man's mind and ensnare his heart, there 
is one more to be dreaded than all, because it counteracts the 
w r hole purpose of his existence, falsifies it, and renders it of no 
account. And what is this delusion ? It is this which, invoking 
the aid of every covetous desire, every evil passion, whispers in our 
ears with tempting voice: "Listen, Oman! whoever thou art. 
Thou art placed in this world to enjoy thyself ; why spend a life- 
time in digging thy grave beforehand, in the sweat and anguish 
of thy brow." This, my brethren, is the greatest clanger which 
can assail us : it is an ever present temptation to man while upon 
earth, and there is no one who has not been aware, at some time 
or other, that some such suggestion has been at w T ork in his mind. 
When men have angrily turned away from the Gospel precepts, 
and in so doing have lost sight of Heaven, they make earth the 
centre of their thoughts ; and, deaf to the voice of faith and reason, 
they flatter themselves that in this valley of tears they have found 
an equivalent for what they have lost. " This shall be our 
abiding -place," they cry : " here will we fix our hopes." t But as 
soon as they begin to discover that this philosophy is as inflated 
as it is vain, and can do nothing to lighten the burden of life, but 
that, on the contrary, it adds to its weight, they begin to envy the 
lot of "the beasts that perish," and to proclaim eagerly the 
doctrine that the grave i.3 the climax of all things ; and that there 



Ube Jmmortalttg of tbc Soul. 



40 



is no life beyond it. Happily for mankind, this is only the con- 
elusion arrived at by the wicked, by those who have " forgotten 
God," for in the heart of man there is a deep-seated, natural belief 
that the soul does not die, and that, when it is released from its 
earthly prison, it returns to God, from Whom it has received the 
gift of immortality. This is the priceless truth which forms my 
subject for this morning, and you yourselves cannot but bo 
aware of its vital importance, because without it the whole spiritual 
edifice would crumble to pieces. I will ask you then to give me 
your best attention while I endeavour to explain it to you. "When, 
out of the bosom of eternity, God had created the heavens and 
the earth — the earth bringing forth grass, the herb yielding seed, 
and the fruit-tree yielding fruit ; and living creatures after their 
kind, cattle and creeping things and beasts of the earth ; when the 
lights had been set in the firmament of the heaven, and the waters 
had brought forth abundantly every creature that hath life ; thus, 
when the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host 
of them, God said, " Let. us make man in our image, after our 
likeness," and it seemed as if the last supreme effort of Almighty 
power had been reserved for the creation of man — man, for whom 
the great book of creation had been opened : man, before whose 
eyes the vast spectacle of the universe had been unrolled : man, 
to whom all the living creatures of the earth had been given for 
food. But God willed that to man's body should be united a free 
and intelligent soul, which would cause and direct its motions. 
God breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became 
a living soul. Consider the difference between these two sub- 
stances* The body is, it is true, alive ; but it is a composition of 
soft clay, which corrupts and dissolves unless possessed of a 
vivifying principle ? And the soul ? Who can measure the 
active powers of the soul ? Speak to it of the past, and memory 
will trace the past to the beginning of all things, and will summon 
back to life those that have been long mingled with the dust, for 
at the call of memory death must itself yield up its prey. Or let us 
consider the actual present, and who can set a limit to the mental 
vision, which is another pow r er of the soul? It will transport 

E 



50 



Sermon 6. 



you from pole to pole 'with the rapidity of lightning ; it will set 
before your mind's eye the friend whom a prolonged absence has 
kept far away from you, and will bring you to his recollection at 
however remote a distance. Again, the thought which soars into 
space, which measures the movements of the planets, studies the 
properties of minerals and plants, or dives into the depths of the 
earth — what is this but another power of the soul ? Would you 
know the future ? Even here the soul can penetrate and, by 
some mysterious power, it can see things which do not as yet 
exist. It can predict not only the eclipse of the sun and moon, 
but even the fall of nations ; and as if this were a small thing, as 
if this earth were too narrow a scope for the spiritual power of 
the soul, it can, by prayer, attain even to the very throne of God ; 
and, within the precincts of the ineffable light wherein dwells the 
Author of its being, rapt in holy contemplation, it may worship 
and serve and adore Him, and become united to Him in the bonds 
of faith and love. 

And is the soul which can retrace the past and govern the 
present, which can penetrate the future — is it indeed nothing but 
a vapour which appeareth for a little while and then vanisheth 
away ? But the soul has greater powers even than these. It is 
not only the faculty of com-prehendijig, it is also the power of 
willing, which proves the immortality of the soul. The soul 
cannot be forced contrary to its will. It can be intimidated by 
threats, and through the channel of the sight it can be dazzled 
by some splendid temptation ; but vanquished when it has 
determined upon resistance it can never be. Let us suppose 
that you intend to subjugate my will by force. You can lay my 
head in the dust, you can seize me by the throat and strangle 
me; but the soul remains free — ay, free when the pistol is 
pointed at the breast : free to say " I will not.''' The soul is not 
dismayed by the worst of threats of its would-be tormentors : it 
is independent of the most barbarous inventions yet devised by 
cruelty ; and when the body is loaded with fetters, this is not the- 
executioner's triumph, but the triumph of the soul. Although 
our soul is closely united to the body, it governs the body; and* 



XTbe Jmmortalfts of tbc Soul. 



51 



the soul when it will can subject the body to the strictest 
penances, can even make the body undergo death, for the sake 
of the soul's faith, the soul's hope, the soul's God. And can it 
be that the soul which thus rules the body, which keeps it under 
subjection, is destined for no other purpose than to be dissolved, 
and to perish with this miserable clay ? But more than this : 
We are endowed with a heart also — a heart capable of happiness 
and thirsting for it. Happiness I This word makes our hearts 
beat : it fills us with emotion. This feeling of happiness is 
stronger than our very selves. Say what you will, do what you 
will, you cannot explain this feeling, or fathom the depth of the 
fascination it has for us. This feeling of happiness is a natural 
instinct, which would not have been planted in our nature merely 
to deceive us. Where is happiness to be found, my brethren ? 
Ask all creation, and there is but one answer. Happiness is not 
to be found here. All this world's good could not suffice to 
satisfy the heart which longs for happiness. The human heart 
is but an atom of creation, but the universe is not sufficient to 
fill it. Caesar, who was lord of half the world, used to say 
bitterly: "And is this all. 2 ' 1 The things of this world cannot 
satisfy our hearts, which long for something far different ! Now, 
if nature has given us a heart which thus craves for happiness, it 
must surely have prepared the means by which this happiness is 
to be attained. What ! if nature has provided for the lamb 
its pasture, and for the lion his prey, can it be that there is 
no provision for the desires of the human heart, and that 
man alone is to remain unsatisfied in a world where the 
lower creatures can find provision for their every want ? No, 
my brethren, if this were so, nature would have played the 
part of a stepmother rather than that of a mother towards 
us. No, nature cannot be false to herself. It is in order to 
enable us to bear the burden of life that she holds out hopes of 
happiness to us ; but of a happiness beyond the tomb. There- 
fore, Saint Paul spoke of the better country — that is an 
heavenly — which we should make the object of our desires. 
But, in fact, this feeling is so strong within us, it is engraved in 



52 



Sermon 6* 



such indelible characters upon our hearts, that we need only 
look up to heaven to be reminded of a future life. Still, there are 
circumstances in life when this inward conviction is stirred within 
us and called forth, as, for example, when we are overtaken by 
misfortune, or weighed down by a sense of remorse, or when we are 
overwhelmed by the loss of someone very dear to us. My brethren, 
you will agree with me that misfortune has this advantage at all 
events — it banishes indifference from our hearts, and forces us to 
think of a future life. It was once said by a celebrated woman, 
whose thoughts clothed themselves in words, " He who suffers, 
hopes " — hopes not only for this life, but for a better — an eternal 
life. This hope mingles itself with all the sadness, all the 
anguish of our heart. It gives us, in the midst of our sorrow, 
an anticipation of a happier future : a foretaste of life everlasting. 
"We delight in treasuring up the thought : it is good for us, and it 
is our best consolation in the day of trial. The thought of a 
future life is more especially dear to those who are in trouble. 
This is why Victor Hugo said " Give to the people, the suffering 
people, for whom the world becomes daily harder — give them the 
hope of a better world which is created for them, and the people 
will have patience, and patience is born of hope." And now, can 
we not feel the thought of the immortality of the soul when we stand 
by the deathbed of one who is dear to us — a father, a mother, a 
brother, or a son? "It is so difficult," it was once said with 
beautiful candour — " it is so difficult to believe that those we love 
must die." And is not this impossibility to persuade ourselves 
that we shall not see those we love again a proof that we shall 
see them ? Yes, because nature cannot be false to herself ; and 
it is thus that the heart proves to itself its own immortality. 
When you find yourself by the bed of your father, or one dear to 
you, who is dying, and you see that he is gradually fading from 
your sight ; when you see the awful grey pallor of death has 
spread itself over that face which used to smile on you so kindly ; 
when you see the light becoming extinguished in the eyes which 
you fondly hoped might gaze on you for ever ; when you feel 
that hand, which you pressed so lovingly, become rigid and 



ZTbe JmmortaUtg of tbc SouL 



53 



insensible to your kisses; when you see those lips, which spoke so 
tenderly to you, parted to give passage to the last sigh ; when 
jou hear those terrible words, 44 Tie is dead: he is gone! " when 
you see him placed in the coffin and taken away from your home 
— I ask you, have you said, have you been able to say, 44 I shall 
never see him again " ? You have not said so : you will never be 
able to say so ; but rather you will have exclaimed : 44 1 shall 
see him again — my father or my mother," however the case may 
be ; and if you were not to meet them again, you would have every 
right to cry to Heaven and say : 44 Oh ! why hast Thou deceived 
us, for Thou hast placed in us a love which is false and delusive 
in its promises." Was it for this, to see him perish for ever before 
our eyes, that we loved our father with our best and fondest 
affection ? Was it for this, to moulder a handful of ashes in the 
grave, that our souls became united to his in the bonds of the 
closest affection ? After this existence, which we call life — so 
short, so full of trouble — is there, then, nothing more ? Are, 
then, love and friendship vain things ? virtue and justice mere 
fantasies of the brain ? It is impossible to say so, and no one 
can think so without stifling the best and noblest instinct of the 
heart. How should we be able to account for the feelings with 
which we stand beside an open grave ? Would the dust and 
ashes we are about to lay to rest in themselves have power 
to claim our highest respect and our fondest affection ? 
No ; it is because there is a voice which tells us that all has not 
died with them. It is this voice speaking within us w T hich has 
ever made mankind cherish and venerate the last resting-place 
of their beloved dead. All nations have believed that the 
sleep of the grave is not to last for ever : that death is in reality 
but a glorious transfiguration of the body. There is something 
which survives death ; nor can this something be material, 
because that which is material — the body — is decomposed in the 
grave ; but the soul is an immortal spirit. 44 All the subtleties of 
metaphysics," said Eousseau, 44 will not make me doubt the 
immortality of the soul for one single moment. I feel it, I wish 
it, I hope for it, I will defend it with my latest breath." At all 



£4 



Sermon 6. 



periods all nations have agreed about this belief. Abraham, 
hoping in the Eesurrection, consoles himself for the sacrifice of 
his son Isaac ; Job, abandoned by all, was comforted by the 
conviction that he would rise again from the grave. " 1 know 
that my Eedeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter 
day upon the earth : And though after my slrin worms destroy this 
body, yet in my flesh shall I see God" (Job xix. 25, 26). The 
Maccabees gave their bodies to the executioner, saying : " God 
will restore them to us " ; Greeks, Persians, Egyptians believe in 
their Elysian fields, in Tartarus. And for the Eomans ? You 
have only to read Virgil's JEneid to see what they thought about 
it. It seems as if God willed to engrave on the soul the word 
immortality, that it might be a centre of light destined to shine 
in the midst of the blackest darkness, in all ages, under forms 
the most diverse, but all instinct with life. Even on the shores 
of Africa you will hear the Hottentot intreat that his bow and 
arrows may be buried with him, so that he may fight in the land 
of spirits. When savage tribes think they hear the souls of their 
beloved ones in the murmurs of the breeze, this is a mistaken 
conception of the idea of immortality, but it proves their belief in 
the existence of the soul after death. When they place food in 
the fallen warrior's grave, it is because they believe that the soul 
has need of nourishment. When the Indian mother pours milk 
mingled with her tears upon the grave which covers her child, 
does not this erroneous belief testify to the innate conviction that 
the soul survives the body ? Surely, then, the voice of universal 
testimony is the voice of truth. Were it only a solitary voice, 
that would be sufficient to arrest our attention and arouse our 
fears ; but it is the voice of the whole human race. Nor is 
it only the voice of the whole human race, but it is the 
voice of God. Of God ! This is the argument which has been 
twisted by those who deny the immortality of the soul to serve 
their purpose. God can destroy the soul, they say, and we know 
not whether He wishes to preserve it or no. My brethren, let us 
put aside the question whether God can or cannot destroy the 
soul : it suffices for us to have invincible proofs that He will not 



Zhc JmmortalttB of tbe SouL 



55 



do so. When you pronounce the great and awful name of God, 
what do you understand by it ? You understand yourself, and 
you wish to convey to others the thought of one Who unites in 
Himself all possible perfection, wisdom, holiness, and justice. 
Well then, my brethren, where would be the wisdom, holiness, 
and justice of God, if everything were to terminate at our death ? 
Where would His wisdom be ? Where do you find in this world 
the sanction of God's laws ? In human law T s ? How many 
crimes escape the law ! How many crimes are committed in the 
dark, and how many, again, make the laws subservient to their 
own ends ! In public opinion, perhaps ? How many cases are 
acquitted which public opinion ought to condemn ! How many 
condemned which public opinion ought to acquit ! Is it, perhaps, 
in remorse ? But what is remorse if not the spectre of another 
life, which appears with a threatening aspect to the guilty ? But 
do you not know that remorse decreases in proportion to the 
frequency of crime ? It is, perhaps, finally awakened, but then 
how simple and easy is the method we can employ to free our- 
selves from it. A little poison, a revolver, and all is over, and there 
is nothing left for the world's justice, or for the justice of God, 
but a corpse instead of the criminal. Will you find it in the 
practice of virtue ? But how many virtues are there which win the 
applause of mankind ? and where would be the reward of heroism 
or of self-sacrifice ? Man is led before the tyrant, who says to 
him : " Deny your faith — or die ! " He dies ; dies for his faith. 
Where is the reward of this martyrdom ? If the young soldier 
abandons the advanced post in face of the enemy, he saves his 
life ; but the General has said to him : " Keep to your post : die 
for the honour of the army, for the glory of our flag, for the 
welfare of thy country." And he dies. Where is this hero's 
reward ? What would remain to us of the noble youths who lay 
down their lives for their country in a foreign land and perish 
with the name of Italy upon their lips ? They deserve not only 
admiration, but love and highest esteem ; but only if the soul 
survives the body, otherwise the soldier who rushes to the fore- 
front of the battle would act like a madman, and would only 



Sermon 6* 



forfeit his right to the medal for military valour. Let, us, how- 
ever, my brethren, consider why God should destroy the soul. 
To create merely to destroy, would not that be the action of a 
child ? Why destroy the soul when nothing is ever destroyed ? 
You can divide an atom into smaller pieces, but you cannot 
destroy it, and is the soul alone to be destroyed ? Then man's 
life would resemble that of the creatures which serve him, of the 
grass which he tramples down : he would become less than his 
own work. And if God were to shatter this His greatest work, 
would this not make Him appear to us in an incomprehensible 
light, occupied during one moment in giving life to millions of 
souls simply in order to destroy them the next ? And would this 
be wisdom ? In man it could only appear as madness. Again, 
how does it coincide with the holiness and justice of God ? His 
all-seeing eye beholds everywhere disordered tumult, immorality, 
and injustice, rampant upon the earth. He sees crimes that cannot 
i be named hide themselves away in the dark : He sees families 
torn by internal dissensions : He sees injustice, tyranny : and 
where is their punishment ? Where is their retribution ? Ee- 
ligion has many a strong opponent, and faith many a victim ; and 
lor those, God's saints upon earth, who make it their happiness 
to relieve the poor — where is their recompense, their reward ? 
What ! Can it be that God, Who is a God of justice — God, Who 
is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity — can look at vice and 
virtue as if they were one and the same, and weigh in the same 
scale innocence and crime ? If it were so, there would be no 
more justice : there would be no God. 

My brethren, I would add yet another argument to those 
already put forward. There are some who say the soul is im- 
mortal : there are others who deny it. The world is divided in 
two categories. On the one side we see all those who have sold 
themselves to work iniquity — criminals from the galleys, 
frequenters of the worst and lowest haunts of the earth ; on the 
other, those who have consistently trod the path of virtue. Lift 
up your voice and say to those who occupy the first of these two 
categories : " Oh ! ye who were the scourge of humanity — Nero, 



ZTbe SMnmortaittB of tbc Soul. 



Donritian* Cromwell — I cite you to appear before the tribunal of 
the Eternal Judge ! I do not say that you fear Him : I ask that 
if you could create the future destiny of your soul, would you 
wish it to be immortal?" The answer would doubtless be: 
" No ; let it die with the body." The wicked would demand the 
death of the soul ! And you, the children of virtue and holiness, 
what do you desire for your souls ? My brethren, all the good, 
the honest, the just, with one voice would exclaim that they 
long for the immortality of the soul. Which, then, shall we 
believe ? My God, [ know well that no created force can destroy 
the soul ; I know well that a wise God, a just and holy God, 
will never destroy it, and now there is no longer room for doubt* 
Thou wilt not let the wicked imagination prosper ; nor suffer the 
impious to rule the future of mankind : and the testimony of the 
simple, " My soul is immortal," standeth sure. 

And here I w^ould end ; but as the social welfare of nations is 
daily before our minds, I would with especial regard to that add 
a few more words. The dogma of the immortality of the soul 
is necessary for the civilization and welfare of nations, and the 
most imprudent friends of the people are those who deny the 
immortality of the soul. For history teaches us a lesson which 
is dazzling in its truth. It is this : that nations decay and perish 
in exact proportion as the national belief in a future life 
diminishes or becomes extinct. My brethren, let a nation be 
barbarous, let a nation be fierce even, let a nation be in error ; 
but if this nation still preserve its temples, its Altars — if this 
nation has faith in other destinies besides those which are 
fulfilled in the present life ; if the "soldiers of this nation fight 
like the hordes coming down from the forests of Germany with 
Arminius, looking forward to that reward which awaits the 
brave, and shunning dishonour rather than death, the armies 
of civilised nations who have no faith will be powerless to with- 
stand this people. Again, what would become of the world 
without this belief ? Take away this belief, and then virtue has 
no more attraction, no more hope, no more happiness, wherewith 
to sustain her votary in his battle with life. Then vice is na 



Sermon 6. 



longer under restraint — indeed, if the wicked have no longer the 
fear of eternal punishment before them, who shall put a check 
upon their career of vice ? Call to mind the time when 
unhappy France was sunk in profligacy and deluged in 
blood. At last her impious legislator was himself terrified into 
exclaiming: ' i The good and bad disappear from the world's: 
$tage, but under different conditions ; death is not the end : it im 
the beginning of immortality ! " Such were the words oi 
Maximilian Eobespierre ; and if you ask who it was that set fire 
to the monuments of that sister nation, "It was not petroleum," 
Siguier the Materialist will reply in answer. It is related that: 
#s the last Polish hero fell upon the field of battle, he uttered 
these words : " Finis, Polonicc!" But, my brethren, when those 
pi a nation who believe in a future life and in the personality of 
God, as one able to judge and to pardon, to reward and to: 
punish, are overcome and trampled on by the triumphant; 
followers of Materialism ; when the echo of their vile doctrine is 
borne along and sustained by science, and by false science, until it' 
Jias found a responsive chord in the heart of the people, then,, 
my brethren , do not forget, you who love your country — then will 
be heard the cry: "Finis, Italia!" because, the victim of 
Internal anarchy, it will be defenceless against foreign invasion. 



Sermon 7* 



59 



VII. 

THE PUEPOSE OF LIFE. 

JIy Brethren, — Man lias a spiritual and immortal side to Ills 
nature. The spiritual side of his nature is proved — (1) by the 
-consciousness of his own personal identity ; (2) by the powers of 
the soul, which transcend all material forces, all the force of 
science and art — nay, even virtue and religion, cannot without 
these powers, be brought within the limit of human reason and 
understanding. The immortality of man's nature is proved by 
the faculties we possess, the understanding, the will, the longing 
for happiness inherent within us, and especially our power of 
perceiving the attributes of God, His w T isdom, His justice, His 
holiness. My brethren, why has God given us this soul ? In 
other words, for what purpose has he given us our life ? What 
is the aim of our existence ? After the preliminary statement of 
this sermon, this question follows as a matter of course : it forces 
itself upon every thinking mind, every awakened conscience. To 
such on reaching manhood, the first question which formulates 
itself in our minds is : " Why am I sent into the world ? What 
is the end of my life ? ' ' To this imperative demand some 
answer must be made : any learning which fails to elucidate the 
•question stands convicted of ignorance. Very well then, what is 
the answer ? Perhaps we have only to look around us, or perhaps 
.at ourselves, or listen to ourselves, to find it there. This is a 
•delusion — an utter delusion. To arrive at what is the real 
purpose of our life, we must listen for the mysterious sounds 
which come to us from eternity, in order so to gather up every 
■echo of the awful voice of God. When man refuses to recognise 
this guidance, he loses his way, and cannot be set in the right 
path again by any of the stammering utterances of science. 
Have we not many times encountered in the ancient writings 
.some such idea as this : " Man is but a miserable being when 



CO 



Sermon 7. 



compared with the creatures which surround him " ? Yes, my 
brethren, from Lucretius to Pliny in the Latin classics, from 
Homer to Plutarch in those of Greece, many and eloquent are' 
the lamentations which issue from the lips of the poets and 
philosophers, who look upon man as nothing better than ani 
abortive effort of nature. Pliny the Elder apostrophises thee; 
earth as the friend of man, and in one famous passage describes 
her u as a barren mother, who, after death, receives us into her' 
bosom and folds us in an eternal embrace.' ' The ancients did; 
not know the real purpose of life ; but Christianity has told us 
why we are sent into the world, and, moreover, that man is the i 
greatest of all created things. Christianity says : " Do not look, 
for the purpose of your existence here on earth: look for it in 
Him Who is greater than yourself. God is the only end and! 
object of your existence." This shall be the subject for our 
consideration this morning. 

My brethren, here we are face to face with the world — or,, 
rather, in the midst of it. Do you find in it anything worthy to 
be the purpose of the life which you have received from God ? 
Look at the physical world. The earth, with its vast domain ; 
nature in all her magnificence, her mountains, her valleys, her 
hills, her meadows, her flowers, and herbage. Here is the 
material world. Was man made for the material world ? Man 
made in the image of God! the living image of the Divine Nature I 
Is man made merely for a substance which has neither mind nor 
heart ? Is man made only for this dust which we tread under 
our feet, which we cannot touch without descending from the 
dignity of our height ? To suppose such a thing for an instant, 
would it not be to degrade and lower our human nature ? It 
would be to make the spirit the slave of matter. Now here is 
another thing which represents matter of which man has made 
an idol — Money. He spends all his efforts in obtaining it. The 
more he has, the more he wants : it is with him a positive 
religion. It is, perhaps, for this that we are given our existence ? 
There are some who have thought so, and have loudly proclaimed 
. the doctrine of self-interest. In order to overthrow this doctrine/ 



Ube purpose of %ite. 



01 



it suffices to see the effect of it upon human nature and Society 
in general. This doctrine would make a man cold, hard, 
egostistical, mercenary : it would destroy the spirit of self- 
sacrifice. It would make him pause before any action and say : 
" This will, perhaps, be of use to others, but it will be of no use 
I to me; therefore, I will do nothing." Whereas the spirit of 
self-sacrifice would suggest : ' ' This will be of use to others : 
I will do it." The man who is governed by the spirit of 
self-interest becomes utterly selfish : the poor intreat his 
charity, he drives them away ; the widow and the orphan he 
despoils by usury. The great and powerful demand of him the 
sacrifice alike of his conscience and his self-respect, and he makes 
the infamous bargain without even a blush. Justice, even the 
; love of his country — all are sacrificed : he becomes a moral 
■ monster. This passion of self-interest generates such a lament- 
able degradation of all moral beauty, that it may well be asked : 
I " What would it make of Society if it were more widely 
, extended ? " What would it make of Society ? It w T ould make 
1 one vast bazaar, where all could be bought, because all would be 
sold : a merchandise regulated by self-interest alone. Hence 
• would arise factions and divisions which would bring about the 
ruin of the country. Perhaps, then, the purpose of life is 
pleasure ? It will suffice to consider what pleasure does for us — ■ 
: what is its effect upon the soul ; what is its effect upon Society. 
The minds which are wholly given to pleasure become, like those 
centred on self-interest, cold, hard, egotistical. They become 
even worse : they become mean and cruel ; and in the day of 
peril it would be in vain for a country to appeal to them for help, 
for cruelty is the daughter of cowardice. To demonstrate this, 
reason alone will suffice without having recourse to faith. Is it 
for this, that we may share with the brute beasts their sensual 
pleasures, that God has given us our life, our intelligence, our 
heart, our sublime aspirations, which despise the transient 
pleasures of the world ? If so, then let the soul also be wrapped 
with the dead body in the shroud, and claim a like kindred with 
the worms. But then, what becomes of our moral greatness f 



62 



Sermon 7; 



Dignity, honour, virtue, duty, glory — what are these? words 
without meaning ? Will you see the effect of such a principle 
upon a nation ? Will you see what it makes of the people ? A 
people given up to pleasure soon degenerates ; the generous 
instincts which teach us to sacrifice ourselves for the good of 
others are looked upon as mere idle prejudices. Those who have 
no enjoyment of life look with envious eyes upon those whose 
cup of happiness is full. We, the ministers of God, the., 
ministers of the Gospel of peace from Jesus Christ — we should 
approach them, and we should say, " Have patience ; accept your ■ 
lot with resignation." But they would exhibit their rags, their 
limbs attenuated by famine — above all they would point to 
their children who cry for the bread they are not able to give- 
them, and they would protest : " Why should we have patience ? 
We are the strongest. If pleasure is the purpose of life, it must 
be our turn now : we who have been so long beggars, who are 
weary and faint." And they would lie in ambush to wait their' 
opportunity to wrest from Society what has so long been denied 
to them. But you will answer me: 6 6 Padre, these words are 
homicidal." I agree ; but if you admit that pleasure is the aim 
and purpose of life, you have no right to protest against such a 
consequence. Perhaps you will say that the purpose of life 
consists in something more elevated than pleasure — that it 
consists in glory. Glory ! And what is the meaning of the word 
which has power to touch a chord in my heart, and make its 
vibrate ? Glory is that supreme fascination which imparts the 
first thrill to the soul of the child : which stirs the young blood 
of youth with the recitation of what it has done for Caesar and 
Napoleon, and which can make the young man's heart beat with 
a quicker throb than love — nay, even than death. Glory can 
bring back to the heart of a nation the echo of centuries long 
past. Glory is that noblest quality of a nation, which can unite 
all in one, and which is greeted with the indescribable rapturous 
cry 6 6 It comes : it is here ! " Is this, then, the purpose of life ? 
What is glory ? What do the Sacred Writings say of it ? It is 
like the blade of grass, which is withered before it is plucked up 



ftbe purpose of %ifc. 



—the flower, the dream " when one awaketh." To-day, my 
brethren, you will find it on the Campidoglio : to-morrow on tho 
larpeian rock. 

Will you, then, believe, will you be convinced, that, for 
the reasoning and intelligent being, the only end, aim, or purpose 
of life is to be found in God ? Let us make a careful moral analysis, 
and so you will see that there is nothing in the nature which you 
have received from God which can rest content with the things of 
earth, but that all must tend back to Him from Whom it came- 
Let us interrogate first the instinct of life. What does this 
instinct teach us ? Yvhat does it lead to ? The infinite. Man, 
although limited by nature, and finite, aspires to an illimitable 
horizon : he cannot accept the idea of death as the end of all. 
You ask him to number his days : he disdains to do so. You 
show him some fatal point in his life which is to terminate 
his existence : he turns away his eyes in horror. From the 
moment any limit is assigned, he says : ' ' It is too short : it is not 
sufficient. " Apelles said : " I paint for eternity " ; but he painted 
a canvas which has perished; and of all his "masterpieces'* 
nothing has remained but their names, I myself have already 
passed the mid-way of life : I am close to the gate of the grave ; 
and what am I to do ? Resign myself to this idea ? Must I say 
the leaf and the flower wither, the water is spilled upon the 
ground, death awaits all? I must also die? No! I protest 
against death : death shall not have possession of me entirely. 
With one foot in the grave I yet behold eternity. But notice, 
this longing for eternity does not belong to this life. We 
wish for the eternal life because it is more perfect than this life. 
This life so little satisfies us, that the holiest souls long to h& 
delivered from it : they wish to cast it down upon the ground as 
a burthen of earth. Which of us has not experienced this 
weariness of life ? How many of us do I know, sad and sor- 
rowful, who only long to cut short its weary length ? Suicide 
is not the act of a soul that is incapable of any longing or 
desire. Suicide is committed because the soul is impatient of 
life, and wishes to try another. But in the healthy mind the 



Sermon 7. 



desire for life is so urgent, that it will brook no limit of time 
or space. 

What shall I say as to the thirst for knowledge ? Is this tl-3 
supreme purpose of the intelligence ? To satisfy this desire we 
give ourselves to the study of science. Does this suffice to 
satisfy the inherent cravings of our intellect? Some have 
thought so : some think so still. Are they right ? Let us con- 
sider the mysterious problems of mathematics, the laws as to 
numbers, their infinite combinations ; or take the wonders of the 
world of nature, the visible world, now brought within the com- 
prehension of all. Your intellect may wander through the vast 
space of the material heavens, whose azure depths have given up 
their secrets ; the planets on their heavenly way ; the clouds that 
fleck the sky in its boundless trackless infinitude, where light and 
electricity and magnetic influences combine their action to keep 
the great book of Creation ever open before us. Or, again, search 
the bosom of the earth, and throughout the vast region of the 
vegetable kingdom pursue the enquiry, and listen to the chorus 
of voices which sing a confused but triumphal hymn to life — 
their hymn of glad enjoyment. Can your intellect rest satisfied 
with this ? Or you may take to guide your steps the lamp cf 
philosophy, and descend into the innermost depths of the human 
mind. You may explore the region of the intelligence, while ideas, 
feelings, and passions display a magnificent and complex pheno- 
mena, to be resolved into so many problems which prove the 
living force of reason. This spectacle is a thousand times more 
marvellous than any which the physical world can offer. Perhaps 
on this, the psychological world, your intellect may rest satisfied ? 
When Christopher Columbus, believing in the existence of a world 
unknown and unexplored, launched his ships upon the main, 
Jie proved that an infinite expanse cf the ocean was an 
illusion, and by the discovery of a new world set a limit 
to the bounds of the Atlantic. But our intelligence will 
not meet with a reward like that won by the bold Genoese 
mariner. The ocean of truth is immense : the nearer we approach 
to it the farther we embark upon it, the more distant does the 



XTbe {Purpose of %ife. 



6s 



ever- vanishing shore appear to us ; and there is no one of our 
company who has ever yet been able to utter the cry, " Land in 
sight ! " Its multiplicity dazzles the most penetrating gaze. 
Truth upon truth succeeds each other with seductive interest, 
and shows gradations ever varying, ever new. This may be 
delightful to the mind of a child, but not to the mind of a man. 
What does the mind of man seek — what does it long for ? It 
longs for unity. The men of science say : " We have passed 
from the species to the family, from the family to the class, from 
the class to the kingdom : all is reduced to a given number of 
general laws ; but this is not that for which the spirit of man 
craves. What his spirit craves for is an essential unity, a living 
unity, which is to be the beginning and the end of individual 
alike, and species, and class, as of the general laws which govern 
all — an eternal, infinite unity. 

My brethren, what shall I say of love ! If our intellect is 
created for knowledge, is not our heart created for love ? Our 
heart is created for the purpose of love, as much as a bird is 
-created for the purpose of flight. Why, my brethren, love is the 
source, as it is the end, of life : all springs from it, all returns to 
It. " Woe to science ! ; ' a genius exclaimed once; and his ex- 
clamation was just — " Woe to the science which does not lead to 
love ! " In earthly language and in heavenly language alike, are 
not love, to be loved, friendship, eternal friendship, words that are 
synonymous with happines ? Hajipiness I the unconquerable 
longing of every soul ! W T hat is the crowning summit of happiness 
to be produced by this insatiable longing for love ? I will not speak 
of the sinful affections — an abyss too well known, into whose vortex 
so many souls are sucked to their perdition : the rock on which so 
many ships have been wrecked. I will speak only of those 
lawful affections which make the solace of our existence. The 
perfection, the supreme perfection of love, is that it should be 
regulated with due proportion. But how can we compass this 
regulating power ? Who can regulate a flame once lit ? But 
look, what is the inevitable result % Every ill-regulated affection 
(brings its own chastisement. How many men have had 

F 



GO 



Sermon 5* 



their happiness "Wrecked by an affection which has deceived, 
them ! But now let us contemplate for an instant the most, 
innocent, the purest, the most perfectly-regulated affection that 
could animate the heart of man. "Will it suffice to fill it, to 1 
satisfy it ? No ; because a secret sense of satiety brings with it 
a haunting fear, of which the tears shed in moments of 
apparently complete happiness are an irrefragable proof. And the 
greater the affection becomes, the more does the heart long for 
the infinite. My God, my God, for what purpose, then, didst 
Thou create the heart of man? He created it for Himself. 
Then let us follow the instinct of our heart ; and if our heart is 
oppressed with the weight of this earth and its cares, it will carry 
us straight from them to God. Again, if not content with 
interrogating the superior faculties of our nature, we ask the 
same question of those faculties which address themselves to- 
material objects, and yet, when brought into contact with them, 
lose their energetic force, we receive the same reply. Interrogate 
our sensibilities. They are never satisfied. Our energies will 
not, like Hannibal, sleep upon the victories of yesterday : they 
must ever have some new sphere for their activity.. Ask the 
artists, the artists of all kinds, the men of genius. Contemplate 
genius by itself. What do you find ? You will find a man 
whose first w r ord is to protest his impotence : his incapacity for 
reaching the ideal standard he has set before him. You will see 
Virgil about to throw his Mneid into the flames ; Michael 
Angelo in sad and silent contemplation of his statues, because 
his mind has conceived a Colossus not to be compassed by his 
hand. You will see Leonardo da Vinci leave his immortal 
Cenacolo incomplete; you will see Tasso bitterly regret that 
he ever wrote the Gerusalemme Liber ata ; Milton prefer some 
insignificant ode to his Paradise Lost; Fenelon at work upon 
Telemaque, while he leaves in eighteen folios of manuscript the 
proof of his insatiable longings. And last of all the musician, and 
above all the musician, to prove this undeniable truth. The last 
echoes of his melodies have died away, and he listens for them: 
still and strains his ears to catch other harmonies which elude 



XTbe purpose of %ife. 



C7 



him, and so prove to him his incapacity for reaching the perfec- 
tion of his art. Why is this ? Why is it that the nearer we 
approach to our ideal, the farther it seems to depart from us ? 
I ask the question here in the midst of all the masterpieces of 
genius. I ask you, do we not feel the love of the beautiful increase 
in us, and not dimmish, the farther we penetrate into it ? My 
brethren, it is the property of all the arts, it is their privilege, to 
take our souls by force and lift them up to God. Baffaello, I 
have gazed upon thy sublime frescoes, and I have remained in 
mute admiration for hours before I have turned that immortal 
page in the Vatican, while my soul has flown up to God. 
Kossini, Bellini, I have listened to your melodies, your sym- 
phonies, in a transport of happiness, and, while I showered 
blessings upon you for having given such an interpretation to the 
feelings of the heart, I felt my own heart caught up to the Throne 
of God. Yet once again answer me. How often when from the 
summit of some hill you have watched- the sun sinking in the 
horizon, have you felt your heart lifted up involuntarily to 
Heaven ! How often in that solemn hour, when some nameless 
feeling of melancholy has gained possession of you, have you not 
asked of your soul : u Why art thou sad ? whence this melan- 
choly ? what is it thou desirest ? Dost thou follow that fleeting 
cloud with thy longing gaze ? But what does thou want of that 
cloud ? Dost thou watch the course of that flowing water ! But 
what dost thou want of that water ? " And the soul will answer ; 
"I am athirst for God." 

One evening St. Augustine was walking by the sea shore. 
The last rays of the sun had sunk in the horizon : it was that 
solemn hour in which the soul seems gathered up into itself, and 
St. Augustine interrogated his : " Why dost thou sigh why art 
thou sad ? " A voice, which seemed borne to him over the waters, 
came to his ears, and said: " Seek for the answer above thy 
head." St. Augustine fell into a meditation upon these words. 
Meanwhile, the darkness crept over the earth, and the stars came 
out in the sky. St. Augustine lifted up his eyes, and said : ' ' God, 
Thou Who didst poise all these stars in the sky above me, Thou 



€8 



Sermon 7* 



fcnowest : tell me why is my soul sad ? " And out of the midst 
of an ineffable harmony the answer came, as from the stars : 
*' Quare super nos " (" Seek above us' , ). And St. Augustine took 
yet another flight up to the Angelic sphere, and repeated his 
question : " Oh ! Heavenly spirits, do ye know why my soul is 
sad ? " And it seemed as if in harmonious concert they replied 
•also : " Quare super nos." Here, then, at last, we find him 
before the Throne of God ; his longings and his heart are satisfied, 
•and he exclaims : " Here is the fulfilment of my desires : here is 
my soul satisfied." It is, then, God in Whom alone our hearts 
can rest ; it is for Him the soul longs with insatiate desire ; for 
Him, the source of truth, and beauty, and holiness, God is the 
aim; and object, and purpose of our lives. 

My brethren, I have spoken to you the language of reason. I 
'will now, if you will suffer me, say a few words to you in the 
language of 'faith. Do you see in that rude stable, laid in a 
manger, a little Child ? That little Child is the Son of the Eternal 
Father, Who has made Himself man. And why ? Why has He 
chosen to be born in such poverty ? Ask of the angels, who are 
singing around His cradle: "For men, for your salvation, that 
the purpose of your lives might be fulfilled." You see Him 
persecuted and compelled to take flight into Egypt ; you see 
Him subject to the law of circumcision, and you ask: 44 Why 
these sufferings: why this shedding of Blood?" Ask His 
Holy Mother, and she will answer : " For you, for your 
salvation, to give you power to accomplish the purpose of your- 
life." You will see Him in the streets and ways of Nazareth, 
labouring with His hands in the carpenter's shop. " Why this 
humiliation ? " you ask. Ask His guardian angel, and he will 
answer : " For you, for your salvation, to give you power to 
accomplish the purpose of your life." Do not stop here — follow 
Him to Calvary. Look at that Cross lifted up betwixt Heaven 
&nd earth ; look at the Blood which is flowing for you ; ask of 
every precious drop which has been shed, 4 4 Why such unequalled 
suffering ? " And He Himself will answer with a last utterance 
from the Cross : 6 4 For you, for your salvation ; to give you power 



XTbc purpose of %ife. 



to accomplish the purpose of your life." My brethren, is any- 
thing farther required to convince us that God alone can be the 
aim and purpose of our lives ? What, then, can we do to accom^ 
plish this purpose ? Let us begin to do on earth what we shall 
one day do in Heaven. In Heaven we shall see God as He is > 
" face to face." Then upon earth let us accustom our thoughts 
to dwell upon that revelation of Himself which He has vouchsafed 
to us, so far as our imperfect knowledge will admit. In Heaven 
we cannot but love Him, because it is impossible not to love our 
Supreme Good, and the unveiled beauty which will then be 
revealed to our capacities. Then let us strive to love Him here 
on earth, and to teach our hearts constantly to rise to Him. In 
Heaven we become possessed, in God, of the fulfilment of the 
highest aspirations of our hearts and minds, of our utmost longing 
for happiness, with the certainty of never losing it more. But in 
order to attain to this our supreme reward (" the fruition of Thy 
glorious Godhead"), we must on earth give to God the first 
place in our hearts : we must observe His laws, we must keep His 
commandments. We must let our thoughts dwell upon God. I 
do not mean, brethren, that you may not care for your homes, for 
your family, for your country, but you must not let the thought 
of God be lost in the thoughts for earth, the thought of eternity 
in time, the thought for the soul in the body. To know God, to 
; love Him, to serve Him : here is the purpose of man's life — the 
end and object to be accomplished under pain of everlasting death. 
No being can exist without some reason for its existence, and the 
reason of man's existence, the object for which he is created, is 
to make one unceasing effort to lift his nature and his heart to 
God. For this purpose he has endowed us with an intelligence 
capable of knowing Him, a heart capable of loving Him, a will 
to serve Him and unite ourselves to Him. For this purpose we 
are Christians ; for this purpose we belong to the Holy Catholic 
Church. But meanwhile, what have I been doing ? What have 
I done ? Instead of endeavouring to know Thee, I have sought 
the knowledge of those prejudices and errors by which we en- 
deavour to justify our passions ; instead of loving Thee, I have 



70 



Sermon 7« 



only loved myself ; instead of obeying Thy laws, I have been the 
slave of my own caprice. Created by Thee for the noblest 
purpose, I have been content to grovel in the dust. But wilt 
Thou forsake Thy creature, the work of Thy hands ? Oh ! cast 
me not away in displeasure : fulfil the work of mercy which 
Thou hast begun in me. Oh ! leave me not until I come to Thee, 
Lord. Nor would I come alone : suffer me to bring with me 
these my brethren. 



Sermon 8« 



71 



VIII. 

THE CLAIM OF GOD UPON OUE LIVES. 

My Beetheen, — God lias given us an immortal and a spiritual 
soul, in order that we may know and love Him, serve Him in 
this life, and, after this life, " have the fruition of His glorious 
Godhead." But has God left us to live our life upon earth 
independent of His will ? Weigh this word well : I speak of 
independence, not of liberty. Has He left us independent of 
Himself, or has He certain claims upon us which we must 
respect ? In the present day we hear complaints on every side 
as to the difficulty — nay, the impossibility — of any form of 
government ; that there is no longer any recognition of authority ; 
and that the exercise of power serves no purpose but to create 
jealousy and strife. And we may add to this a series of lamenta- 
tions as to the unlimited freedom of opinion, the unrestrained 
indulgence of the passions, a general attitude of defiance — in a 
word, a spirit of independence which sets at naught all law and 
order. What are these but the consequences of practical 
Atheism, which is the fundamental rule of the doctrine of the 
age? When the government of God has been rejected, there is 
little chance for the government of man. When religion is 
dethroned in order that reason and morality may occupy her 
place ; when the people are told that God (admitting that God 
exists) does not concern Himself about us, that man is the arbiter 
of his own destiny — when things have reached such a climax, 
when the fundamental laws of right and wrong are shaken 
to their centre, what rule is there left to guide the conscience 
of the people ? Where shall we find any stable basis on which 
to establish the general welfare of mankind ? Prudhomme 
-said : " The day on which our Fathers made a declaration 
of their rights, on that day the authority of Heaven was denied 
upon earth " ; and a few lines farther on, with inexorable logic, 



72 



Sermon 8. 



he adds : " and from this there can be no other result than 
anarchy or Csesarism." Such, indeed, must be the inevitable 
and fatal issue if the power of God is no longer to be acknow- 
ledged by the conscience ; if the rights of men are to be considered 
the only religion ; and if these rights are not made subservient to 
the claims of God. But what are man's rights when considered 
without reference to the paramount claim of God upon our lives ? 
You have but to consult history to see the effects of such a con- 
dition of things. There you can read for yourselves the annals 
of bloodshed and crime ; and if these are not sufficient, I could 
tell you of others which would make your flesh creep with horror. 
I would begin by telling you of flatterers who fawned upon the 
people until they had obtained power, when they became tyrants 
as soon as they had obtained it — worse tyrants than any which 
had preceded them. I could tell you of those who, after having 
deceived thousands during their lifetime, left behind them, after 
their death, the means of deceiving thousands more. What are 
the rights of men without relation to the rights of God ? They 
are a mere fancy, for they have no substance in themselves. 
.Whence do they come ? Whence can they derive either sanction 
or law ? How can they be either conceived or described ? How 
can you equalize force if you do not take into consideration 
universal gravitation? You wish for order, justice, liberty. 
Very well ; but how will you obtain these things without ac- 
knowledging the claims of God ? God is not only the origin of 
beings, and of their relationship the one to the other, but He is 
the source of order, of justice, of liberty. He is not only the 
source of life : He is the centre of life. God has made laws 
for the body as well as for the soul. Woe to him who would 
tamper with these laws ! I will show you the result of your 
humanitarian doctrines. It is simply this : all your efforts 
to proclaim and sustain the sovereignty and independence of 
man only serve to remind him that, whether he will or not, 
he must acknowledge some master. The study of our relation- 
ship to God, knowing but too well how entirely dependent we 
are upon Him ; the study of our duty as His creatures, and His 



Zhc Claim of <3o& upon our %ivcs. 



73 



claim upon our lives as their Maker and Creator — this is what 
we will occupy ourselves with this morning. 

My brethren, when God had created this most beautiful 
woiLl, and when He had set man in the midst of it, and made 
him its tenant, what was to be the condition of his tenancy 2 , 
Under what terms did he enter upon the possession of his 
dominion over it ? Does man reign as absolute master ? The 
lower kingdom owes him obedience, no doubt ; but is there 
nothing above him to which he must in turn be subject, and 
bow his head in reverence ? Science shows creation ever in the 
ascendant ; from the mineral to the vegetable kingdom, from the 
vegetable to the animal kingdom, from the animal kingdom to 
man. This, no doubt, according to the conception of mate- 
rialistic evolution, would not be admitted ; but in reality it is a 
true and beautiful conception. We must not, however, stop 
short at man in the ascending scale : we must reach upw T ardg 
to God, the origin of all things, the cause of all that exists. 
This is why scientific doctrines endeavour to deny God the 
Creator, because, if God is acknowledged as a Creator, how can 
He not be acknowledged as a Legislator also ? One glance at 
man is sufficient to prove that he is God's creature, and that 
God is his supreme Master. Let us pass quickly in review our 
nature, our condition, our works, and we cannot fail to be 
convinced of the dependent condition of man. 

Let us glance first at our nature. We did not ask to be 
born. Job said: "Why, Lord, didst Thou call me from my 
mother's womb?" We were not asked to live: we shall not 
be asked to die. We have no right to expect to know when 
our death may occur. We cannot choose either the place, or 
time, or manner of our death ; and if we make use of our 
liberty to commit suicide, this act only throws us most certainly 
into, a worse state than any that it is within our present 
capacity to conceive. Therefore, my brethren, to come into 
this world without any volition on our part,, to live a life of 
effort, and often of misery, upon this earth, which does not 
belong to us ; to lose this life when without knowing why r 



74 



Sermon 8* 



we may at any moment be summoned hence — this is our lot 
upon earth. 

Let us glance at our condition. Nothing can be more depen- 
dent than our condition. We depend upon nature, against whose 
power we daily struggle, and which can at any moment destroy 
us. We work with effort, with difficulty. Where is the man 
who has ever succeeded in effacing one wrinkle from his brow ? 
We are dependent upon the fruits of the earth for our sustenance, 
and upon animal food for strength to accomplish our work. We 
are liable to the fury of the elements : we depend upon every 
variation of temperature. What can be apparently of less 
importance than the gas which is diffused in the air, from which 
vegetation draws life ? Its presence can hardly be certified by 
decomposing the atmosphere which surrounds us. Well, if this 
gas were to be absorbed by the sea, what would happen ? Vege- 
tation would be extinct : there would no longer be a blade of 
grass ; animals would perish, and men, the victims of ravenous 
hunger, would devour one another. In less than a week our 
planet, depopulated and desolate, wrapped in the lugubriousj 
silence of death, would present nothing but a few calcareous 
patches, shaded here and there by clouds. You see now upon 
what delicate chemical action the existence of the world depends. 
Again, with regard to his works, to his inventions, there is no 
creature more dependent than man. In every single thing we 
attempt there is a certain degree of imperfection which hinders 
its accomplishment. Our powers are not sufficient to attain the 
perfection we desire. " Man is ever falling," it has been said, and 
God is ever raising him up again. Man is always on the point of 
being overcome, and God is always succouring and defending him. 
Man tills the land, sows the grain ; but he cannot give the sun the 
next day, nor the rain ; he cannot regulate the number of insects 
which may be useful or injurious to cultivation. You may pursue 
the most efficacious and most able methods, either in commerce, 
industry, politics. When you have done everything, there will 
always remain something else to be done : there will still be some 
element lacking over which you have no power, without which 



Uhc Claim of <5ot> upon our %ix>cs. 



75 



the circle cannot be closed, or a perfect result obtained. Unbeliei 
acknowledges this element, and calls it chance. Eeligion acknow- 
ledges it and calls it Providence. Unbelief agrees with religion 
in acknowledging the fact, and the fact is that all man's work 
must be both feeble and incomplete. Whatever confidence we 
possess in ourselves, we are all forced to confess that there is not 
one single element in our existence which depends on our own 
selves ; and this is proved by the adage ' ' Man proposes and God 
disposes." Man is ever at work, but it is God, God alone, Who 
sets the machinery in motion. Behold what man was ! Behold 
what man is to-day. I do not see that scientific progress has 
changed anything in this. Science has discovered the forces of 
matter ; there they are, as it were, at our service. They only 
serve us, however, on one condition — viz., that we first serve 
them. When you see man borne swiftly alone by the force of 
steam, you exclaim " How wonderful ! this is progress indeed ! " 
Think of the time when it required whole days to cross that space 
which now is traversed in a few hours ! Man certainly shows 
himself in this as the King of creation. Yes ! a King, if you will, 
but let this King beware of transgressing one of the constitutional 
rules of nature, or the machine will break in pieces, and himself 
with it. Yes, man is King, -but on condition that he acknow- 
ledges his dependence upon God. Everything leads him to the 
feet of God, to the steps of God's Altar. This ought to suffice, 
because it is a self-evident fact. But since, alas ! we live in an 
age where pride has usurped power over everything, since we live 
in an age in which all kinds of sophisms are made use of in order 
to ensnare our youth, and to cheat the unhappy people, allow me 
to insist a little further upon this point. The work of God does 
not resemble man's work. As soon as man's work is accomplished, 
so far as it can be accomplished, it is independent of its author. 
Certain elements, certain instruments and materials are needed 
before these works are produced. Stone exists before the edifice 
is built, bronze and marble exist before the statue is executed, 
brushes and colours before the picture is painted. And when the 
picture is finished, the statue cast, the edifice complete, the artist 



76 



Sermon 8. 



retires ; he begins another, but his previous work remains,, 
Michael Angelo is dead, Raphael is dead ; but the museums of 
Eome, and your galleries here in Florence, contain the master- 
pieces of these great geniuses for us to gaze upon. This cannot 
be said of the work of God. It cannot be said that God has gone 
away and carried His activity into another sphere. Indeed, if 
we come to think of it, where could He have gone ? How could 
He have separated Himself from you if He is everywhere, and fills 
all with His infinity, His omnipresence ? But it is not only this- 
infinite omnipresence which makes any alienation from God 
impossible. It is not only for this reason that He is ever present 
to His creatures, but for another reason also, and we shall see 
what that reason is. This is the reason : it lies in the imperative 
need we have of His Divine Presence in order to maintain our- 
selves in life, to save us from total annihilation.* Look at the 
smoke which issues from the engine after it has passed ; the 
smoke remains but for an instant. Do you see the rivulet which 
trickles down the mountain side to the plain below ? Cut it off 
at its source, will it continue to flow on to the plain ? Separate 
man from God, and man " turns again to his earth, and then all 
his thoughts perish." It has been said that, like the waters of 
the mighty ocean all around him and beneath him, does God 
encompass and sustain man. This simile is a beautiful one ? 
but it does not go far enough. If you put a substance in the 
water, the water will surround it on all sides. But God does 
more, a great deal more, for His creatures than that. He 
enters into our hearts, and dwells there, making us one with 
Him, and He with us. If God departs from us, if He deprives 
ua of this support of His Presence, life becomes for us a 
mere shadow without substance. Without God we are no longer 
capable of thought, intelligence, vigour, or activity. Deprived of 
God, our lips refuse to speak, our eyes to see. Without His 
help, we have no power of preserving that which we possess. 



* Who holdeth our soul in life, and suffereth not our feet to slip * 
{Psalm lxvi. 8). 



TLhc Claim of (Bob upon our %ivcs. 



77 



But in order to exercise tliis power of preservation, we must in the 
first place possess our own souls. But how can we possess them, 
since they do not belong to us ? All that we possess, all that we 
are, we have and we hold from God, and through God. From day 
to day, from hour to hour, from minute to minute, our existence is 
like that line you see shifting upon the dial-plate which owes its 
existence to the sun. In fact how can it be otherwise ? If for 
one single instant it were possible for us to preserve our existence 
independent of God, there would be a moment when the voice 
need no longer depend on the singer ; when the ray need no longer 
depend on the lamp ; for the moment in which the creature 
became master of his own being, and contained within himself 
the reason of his own existence, the creature would have usurped 
the prerogative of the Infinite, and ceasing to be a creature would 
have become as God. It does not suffice to say that the creature 
possesses an inherent principle of self-preservation ; this would 
only betray ignorance. As we are derived from God in the first 
instance, so we have perpetual need of Him. We say that the 
universe is a canticle : that it is one great harmony. It is 
true ; but it is God from Whom this canticle proceeds : it is God 
Who presides over this great harmony of creation. Under the 
Almighty hand of God — allow me to express myself thus, that I 
may be understood even by little children — creation is like some 
musical instrument : some vast organ. Every creature, as 
St. Thomas Aquinas has said, is a note, and the sound lasts as 
long as God's finger presses the organ. Let the finger be moved, 
and the harmony dies : creation and preservation all disappear. 
In order that the note may preserve its vibration, God, Who has 
created the harmony, must consent to maintain it. Voice and 
harmony, prelude and symphony, if touched by His Almighty 
hand, as they have had no other origin, so can they have no 
other continuation of existence but that which is ordained by 
His will. All that we have, all that we are, all that is real in 
our w T ork : all is created, preserved by the power and will of God. 
4 6 When Thou openest Thy hand* they are filled with good ; 
when Thou hidest thy face, they are troubled ; when Thou takest 



78 



Sermon S. 



away their breath, they die, and are turned again to the dust " 
(Psalm civ. 29). This is the lot of all created things. God never 
said, after creating the world, "I go away ; My work is complete; 
now yours begins, and I depart." If he were to go away and 
leave us; if that which sustains nature were to be withdrawn, all,, 
being dissolved, would vanish into space. When the little child 
says to his mother, " It is the good God Who gives me this fruit,"" 
there is nothing to reprehend in the speech. Yes, it is God from 
Whom all good things do come, from Whom all creatures derive 
their being ; all unite in praising Him, all show forth His glory, 
and each, in his own language, acknowledges his debt of 
gratitude to the Giver of all good. Shall we, then, who are 
possessed of an intelligent mind and a heart capable of strong 
affection — shall we fail to acknowledge the omnipotence of God f 
And if we will not acknowledge His omnipotence, let me ask : 
a Why do we bask in His sunshine ? Why do we not go and 
fabricate some other world of our own?" But why will we= 
exchange obedience for rebellion, worship for blasphemy ? Have 
we thought of what will be the consequences of such an act of 
rebellion ? Think what would become of the ray of light if it 
were to detach itself from its centre, and, instead of transmitting 
the sun's ray, it sought on its own account to traverse space and 
disseminate itself, while it severed all connection with its original 
source. What would be the inevitable result ? Darkness and 
extinction. From the moment in which this ray had detached 
itself from its centre, motion and splendour w T ould cease. And so 
it would be with man. The very fact of his wishing to establish 
his own independence is, in other words, to wish for his own- 
perdition. There has never been an.epoch in the world's history 
without God's inspiration, either direct or indirect, without His 
mission to fulfil. It is true that God is often worshipped 
ignorantly, unconsciously ; and there are many who, thinking 
to escape from worshipping Him, only end by worshipping Him 
under the name of various idols, such as Honour, Nature, Eeason,. 
Science, Liberty, Equality, Fraternity. These are words which 
flatter the ear, touch the heart with their false sentiment, and lay 



Zhc Claim of (Bob upon our %ives. 



id 



hold of the imagination. Such is the language of the age — let 
us say, rather, these are the prevailing forces of our age. But 
after all God speaks to us through them. These forces spring 
from God : we must bring them under His discipline and lay 
them before His Altar — that Altar which still might bear the 
words once inscribed upon the Altar of the Athenians : " To the 
unknown God." " Whom, therefore, ye ignorantly worship, Him 
declare I unto you " (Acts xvii. 23). Yes, my brethren, I turn to 
you and say : " Children of this century, it is God Whom you 
adore ' J ; and you shall judge for yourselves if I am telling you a- 
falsehood. We will take your idols in turn, one by one, and you 
shall see that they must all fall down and worship God. Your 
first idol is Honour. You have got the feeling of honour strongly 
within you : you are always alluding to it. But honour should 
be pure, honour should be unassailable, and the purity of honour 
is tarnished, its firmness is tampered with, if it does not recognise 
first of all the honour due to God. What would be the soldier's- 
honour if he payed respect to his captain and not to his general ? 
Let us consider another idol : Nature. You have discovered her 
secrets : the discoveries you have made are the pride of the 
century ; but nature is an effect, not a cause, and the more beauti- 
ful and manifold its wonders appear, the greater is the power 
which has created them. Let us consider Reason, another of your 
idols. It is always in the name of reason that you teach, that 
you fight. Well, I, in the name of reason, tell you to render 
homage to God, from Whom you have received this gift. And 
if your reason pauses helplessly before the mysteries of a future 
life, I tell you to inquire of revelation for the key to these mysteries. 
If we shut our eyes to this plain truth, we forfeit our claim to be 
considered reasonable beings, But let us look at another idol : 
Science. I do uot allude to true science, but to the inflated but 
uncertain science so highly esteemed in the present day. My 
brethren, if our men of science are estranged from God, it is not 
from too much, but from too little wisdom. Bacon said ; " True 
science leads us to God ; mediocre science alienates us from God r 
because it confuses the intellect." Or we will consider Liberty. 



80 



Sermon 8. 



It is in the name of liberty that God is cried down in the present 
day. "Well, let them raise their voices as loud as they like : I will 
make mine heard above them all. Who is it Who first brought us 
freedom ? It was Jesus Christ. " Stand fast, then, in the liberty 
wherewith Christ has made us free, and be not delivered again to 
the yoke of bondage." Equality : here is another of their idols. 
Do they not know that there is but one equality : equality in the 
sight of God, equality in the sight of Jesus Christ ? We are equal 
before God, Who looks upon us as His children. We are equal 
before Jesus Christ, Who died for all : Who paid with His Blood 
the ransom for the sins of the whole world. Fraternity ! Those 
who urge this plea are either wilfully blind or ignorant if they 
forget Who it was Who brought us the doctrine of fraternity, Who 
taught it to us, Who it was Who said " All ye are brethren." 
The word and the thing are of God, and belong to Him. Progress: 
here, finally, is the last of their idols. Progress is a king, yes, if 
it has for its object the fulfilment of God's will : if it does not set 
itself in opposition to God's truth. It is time that we should be 
convinced of one thing which history clearly demonstrates — 
namely, if we would organize the social welfare of mankind, glory 
and science are not sufficient ; above these, above all, we must 
esteem and worship the holy name of God. There are two dis- 
tinct movements in our century ; one leads upwards to God, 
up on the wings of faith and love : the other casts us down into 
the abyss of doubt, despair, and hatred. The language of our 
century is capable of two interpretations, but the true interpreta- 
tion is divine. Yes, I speak as of the authority that God giveth, 
when I tell you that the farther humanity advances into the reign 
of truth and justice, the keener will be your sense of honour, the 
more enlightened will be your reason, and that religion alone can 
discover to you the secrets of nature — for by means of religion 
only can the wonders of creation be conceived or apprehended. 
My brethren, let me repeat what De Maistre said : " Let us hope 
that our century, which has begun by a declaration of the rights 
of men, will end by acknowledging the claims of God." 

My brethren, what are the claims of God ? What are our 



Ube Claim of (Soft upon out %ivcs. 81 



duties ? For we must first know in what our duties to God 
consist, and what are His claims upon us. God has every right 
over us, because He has given us all that we have. God has 
given us intelligence, therefore it is His due that this intelligence 
should believe in Him : hence it is our duty to believe in Him. 
He has given us our will, and He has given it to us that we 
might obey His laws : hence our duty to observe these laws. 
God is the Author of all the creatures which surround us, there- 
fore He has a right over them. He has ordained our relationship 
to them : hence we must respect these rules. God is the Author 
of our existence, of its development : therefore God has a claim 
upon our years, our days, our hours ; He has a claim upon our 
childhood, upon our youth, upon our mature years, upon our old 
age, upon the first and last breath of our body. To deny these 
claims is to deny creation ; and the creature who aspires to the 
rights of the Creator can only be looked upon as an usurper. 
My Brethren, we are wont to make our boast and say : " I have 
never injured my neighbour's honour : I have never coveted his 
goods ; and therefore I am an honest man." But, my brethren, 
honesty consists in rendering to each one what is his due. If 
we do not render to God that which is God's due, what does it 
matter if we have not attempted the life and substance of our 
fellow creatures ? From the moment that we have failed in 
rendering to God that which is His due, our neighbours are fully 
justified in believing that, if we had no cause to fear the law, wo 
should make no scruple of grasping any good which might offer 
itself to us. Indeed, what would become of the rights of 
individuals, what would become of liberty, or private property, if 
conscience did not make these rights obligatory ? What force 
can legislators give to their laws if they do not rest upon the 
rights of God ? And thou, oh ! man, who art invested with God's 
.authority, by what right wilt thou command other men ? Wilt 
thou invoke force ? but this is the expedient of the tyrant, and 
tyranny is short-lived. Wilt thou invoke genius ? but genius is 
not such an easy thing to prove : it may be contested : other men 
of genius may appear upon the field with rival claims. Wilt 

Gr 



82 



Sermon 8. 



thou invoke universal suffrage ? I will not break my word — I 
will not, even in an indirect manner, allude to politics ; but think 
it well over. Surely authority is not to be enforced by numbers i 
Therefore, authority must rest on the authority of God. And 
yet there are men who wish to suppress the authority of God,, 
and then pretend to preach to the people to respect the rights oi 
property, liberty, and the rights of enjoying our insolent 
prosperity. But, my brethren, is this reasonable language 2 
The mass of people who work and toil on in suffering and misery 
— will mere human philosophy either console or convince them ? 
Will this suffering multitude resign itself to the blank future of 
annihilation that you place before it as the inevitable result of 
its life of labours ? Let us, then, lay it to heart. Woe to the 
nations who do not respect the claims of God ! Woe to the 
State, whatever be its form of government : woe above all to the 
unhappy people when the rights of God are not respected ! Fori 
would impress upon their minds especially this sentence taken 
from a recent historian : " Whatever is taken from the sovereignty 
of God is added to the sovereignty of the tyrant." You will see 
that the consequence of this aphorism is, that when the 
sovereignty of God is rejected and set at naught, there is no 
alternative for the people but the reign of brute force. Therefore, 
you who love your rights and the rights of the people, you young 
men — you, above all, who are called upon to defend the rights of 
the people, because the people look up to you ; you who are the 
hope of your country, listen to me ! There is but one watchword 
for you : " Acknowledge the claim of God, and you will find in 
that the guarantee of the people's rights. Deny this claim, and 
you will find that there it no escape from tyranny." 




Sermon 9. 



83 



IX. 

FAMILY LIFE. 

My Brethren, — There is an institution which forms the basis 
of all social progress — an institution of Divine origin, for it was 
ordained by God Himself; an institution which may truly be 
described as one of fundamental importance, since without it the 
whole social edifice must crumble to the ground. This sacred 
institution is our family life — in other words, our home. Yes, of 
more consequence than the political life of States, of more 
consequence than the general social life of mankind, is the private 
family life of each individual member of Society. Indeed, the 
former is so entirely dependent upon the latter, that the welfare 
or degeneration of the State may be exactly measured by the 
standard of esteem in which family life is held by the nation. 
But in the present clay family life is neglected for social theories, 
for humanitarian visions. We have forgotten that family life 
is the germ of our very existence, springing with fond origin 
from the depths of our parents' hearts. " Family life," said a 
learned writer, 44 is the second soul of humanity." Legislators, 
however, too often forget this : they only think of the individual, 
of the nation ; and they take no account of family life, on winch 
depends the prosperity of a country. Yes, my brethren, I repeat : 
the prosperity of a country, of a nation, depends upon the family 
life of our homes. History furnishes proofs which cannot be 
doubted. The prosperity of Eome varied in proportion to the 
prosperity or decay of her family life. So long as the paternal 
authority prevailed with absolute sway in the Eoman family, the 
people were able to preserve their vigour and their power. In 
the present day, among the nations of modern Europe, the 
family tie is nowhere more respected than in England : hence the 
unity of the nation, which is evident to all. In England the 
family life is held so sacred that the Englishman would fain carry 



84 



Sermon 9* 



his home with him wherever he goes. It is easy to understand 
this connection between the prosperity of the country and the 
prosperity of the family, because both have need of the same 
virtues, of the same laws ; and it is in his family life, above all, 
that man learns to practise those duties which are afterwards 
imposed upon him by the country to which he belongs. If the 
sacred ties of family life are dissolved, where is man likely to 
find the generosity of character, goodness of heart, strength of 
will ? These virtues make the life and soul of the State, and we 
have but too many examples of how the baneful influence of 
degenerate families reacts upon the State. If the family 
life is barren of good men the mother country will be also 
barren of good citizens. Will patriotism, which is essential to 
liberty, be found in the heart of a people who have lost their 
respect for their homes and their families ? What is patriotism ? 
It is the love of your country, the love of the land of your fore- 
fathers : the devotion to that spot on God's earth first marked 
with your footprints. Patriotism reawakens the first impres- 
sions, the first teachings received in our families at home, and it 
us that influence which first opened our minds to the truth, and 
our hearts to the love of goodness. This is the first source of 
patriotic affection. He who has no home has no mother country. 
Let us, therefore, consider to-day the question of family life 
in our homes. But what have I to tell you about it? I 
endeavoured a few days ago to prove to you that man cannot live 
without religion, and that there is no more deplorable spectacle 
than the life of a man without faith. I wish to prove the same 
thing to you to-day in speaking of your family life. A home 
devoid of religion, my brethren, presents a yet more unhappy 
picture than the life of a man devoid of faith, because a home 
without religion is fruitful in still greater misfortunes. Here, 
then, is the subject of my sermon : Eeligion as the indispensable 
foundation of family life. 

The endeavour to lay any other foundation than religion for 
family life to rest upon — i.e., the attempt to make this, the most 
important of all institutions, rest upon a false basis — ca.n only 



jfamilB %ifc. 



85 



result in compromising all social interests, present and future. 
Let us approach this subject carefully, for it is one of great 
delicacy, and is bound up with the deepest and best affections of 
which our nature is capable. My brethren, family life has two 
aspects : the human and the Divine. The human aspect has its 
origin in the freewill of the man and the woman. The accidental 
condition of its existence is modified by particular conventions, 
and these constitute the matrimonial contract. Public Society 
intervening, sanctions the tie which unites the husband and wife, 
takes them under the protection of the law, and the family rests 
on the authority of the State. But family life has also a Divine 
aspect. The principle of family life, the moral tie which binds 
two souls, which establishes a relationship between the father and 
the mother, is of higher origin than man's will : it rests on the 
will of God, Who from the beginning has instituted the com- 
panionship of man and woman. The world had been made ou\ 
of nothing, and the wonders of the creation had reached a climax 
in man. But God said : " It is not good for man to be alone." 
And in His goodness, out of His infinite compassion, God gave 
man a companion. On seeing his companion Adam said : " This 
is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh " (Gen. ii. 23). 
And God blessed their union, which was to be the origin of man- 
kind. And man transmitted to similar beings that life which he 
had received from God. 

My brethren, in this simple narration the origin of family 
life is explained. But observe what was the foundation chosen 
by God as the basis of family life. Did He make choice of the 
senses for this basis ? No : these are the inferior part of man : 
the senses are limited in their action. One must ascend higher 
in order to find the origin of this Divine institution. Man in his 
family life is not only the source of material life, but of moral 
existence also. Shall we find, then, a foundation for family life 
in the intelligence ? But this foundation, in itself concentrated 
and special, is all too narrow for an institution which is to be the 
source of life to others, which has a tendency to expand rather 
than to contract. Perhaps, then, the foundation was laid upon 



86 



Sermon 9. 



interest ? Interest, pleasure — these are the attractions of the day. 
Interest presides now over the founding of families ; marriage is 
turned into a bargain between the contracting parties. In the 
present day the woman is not married for herself, but for her 
dower. It is not her moral gifts which are sought after, but her 
dividends, her balance at the bank. Moreover now, an impious 
custom, sanctioned by law, has decreed that at pleasure man can 
break the ties which unite him to woman, and by means of divorce 
bring destruction upon his home. Divorce is in reality nothing 
but a mask for polygamy, by means of which all the future 
prospects of family life are at the mercy of the caprice of two 
fickle persons. The foundation of family life is laid far deeper 
than this : it is laid in the depths of man's heart, and from these 
pure, innermost depths it rises a strong yearning, not for pleasure 
or self-interest, but for love — that best gift from God to man. 
Meanwhile experience as well as history teaches us that it is use- 
less to cast this foundation of family life in a heart devoid of 
religion. In family life religion is the indispensable as it is the 
primary element of happiness, and it is to her that our youth 
must apply if they wish to lay the foundation of their homes. 
But in the present day, when past experience is made of no 
account, it is asserted that a home can be founded without 
religion. Even the Pagans felt the urgent necessity of uniting 
together the Altar and the domestic hearth. Nor is it the cry of 
one nation, or the expression of one kind of worship : it is the 
unanimous cry of all. It is left for this unhapy century to 
present the spectacle of men who desire to live without religion 
and without faith. What do you see around you ? You see 
everywhere family discord, hatred, a'nd strife : houses divided 
against themselves. You are surprised that this should be so 
and you ask yourself: "How is it that the steady light which 
once burnt upon the domestic hearth and cast its radiance thence 
has now become dim and flickering, if, indeed, it is not altogether 
extinguished ? How is it that the most sacred ties can be 
loosened — nay, even sometimes torn asunder ? " I will tell you 
how' this is : I will tell you why the light is extinguished upon 



jfamUg 2Ufe. 



87 



the domestic hearth. It is because the connecting link which 
united it to God's Altar has been severed, so that it can no longer 
be fed from thence with sacred fire* How much sorrow may be 
traced to the want of religious faith ! Banish the thought of God 
from home, banish His holy angels, banish religion, and what 
remains? You will answer: " The heart remains.' 1 Yes, the 
heart, but the heart with ail its fickleness, its weakness, its 
caprice. Love is the law by which the heart is governed. This 
law cannot be fulfilled without religion, the constant, inseparable 
friend of love. The impulses to which the heart is subject are 
•spont aneous, unforseen, unaccountable ; and who does not know 
how trivial a circumstance will awaken love ! A simple action, 
a word, a look : either of these will suffice. And to destroy, to 
annihilate love, less still is needed. The very slighest breath is 
sufficient to destroy this bright bubble, which rises before our 
eyes in colours of transparent brilliancy. And this is the case 
with the strong as well as with, the weak and fickle mind. Take, 
for example, the love of Napoleon for Josephine. What, then, 
does religion do for us ? Eeligion provides us w T ith stronger, 
higher motives for our affection : it gives dignity of soul, tem- 
perance, firmness of character, amiability of disposition. Some, 
however, will say : " What need have we of religion in order to 
appreciate these things ? Eeason is sufficient." Keason, my 
brethren, suffices for many things in theory, but practically it is 
of no use ; and this is shown by experience. Eeligion can, more- 
over, add to these motives others of a supernatural, and therefore 
more sacred character. Yv r hen a sincerely religious mind is 
brought into contact with another equally religious, they are 
drawn towards each other. When they have begged the bless- 
ing of religion on their union, and when they have knelt down 
in prayer and have together worshipped God, they find a real 
increase of natural affection in the fulfilment of that supernatural 
act, and they become more closely united to each other. By this 
act of heavenly contemplation their hearts are made capable of 
an affection far above all earthly feeling. In the strength of their 
union with God, men have courage to overcome the storms and 



88 



Sermon 9* 



accidents of human life, and to set before them as the sum df 
their desires, not happiness for itself alone, but in it the glory and 
praise of God. It has been said by one of God's saints : " If love 
is to exist and be maintained it must make progress : it must wax 
greater and greater." Instead of this, how does conjugal love 
often appear to us ? We see it at its climax ; and when it lias 
reached this climax during the first few days of married life, the 
descent begins, more or less slowly, but ever receding farther and 
farther away from that climax of perfection already reached. 
Jfor some the climax is attained later ; but there are few who are 
not discouraged by the obstacles they meet with at the outset of 
their career. Here religion steps in, which regulates love ; and it 
regulates it by means of an inexhaustible argument derived from 
the Infinite. True love is kindled at the flame of infinite love ; 
and those who comprehend this can make love immortal. As 
years pass by, the beauty of such souls seems to increase day by 
day. Oh ! Christian husbands and wives f have you understood 
the language which religion has addressed to you ? If you have 
not understood it, I can only pity you, for then the spark lies 
hidden and smouldering in your heart, like the fire in the depths of 
the volcano. I can only pity husband, wife, children and home. 
For what are wife, and children, and home without love ? And 
what is love without religion to ennoble and purify it ? You see 
the failure of that which you believed to be immortal, and it 
causes you bitter grief ; you lament over the disenchantment of 
love. Why is this ? It is because you have not grasped the 
sanctity of your union. Instead of finding its perfect fulfilment 
in the light of God's Presence, you have chosen the darkness of 
unbelief, where no light can enter ; and the grace of God, 
through which you might have attained to an eternity of holy 
love, has been lost and overlaid by mere sensual longings and 
desires. You expected that your union would be fruitful in 
worldly prosperity, and you thought it would be the means of 
adding title to title, wealth to wealth, property to property. And 
when these dreams are dispelled, you discover that the only 
reality which remains is the iron chain which binds you together 



3fatml£ Xifc 



89 



vtith an inexorable link. ■ This is no one's fault but your own. 
Your union lias been a Pagan one, and therefore love has fled 
away from it. There is another law which religion helps to fulfil, 
and that is the law of sacrifice. To judge by the manner in 
which matrimony is entered upon by the young people of the 
present day, one would think that they conceived themselves 
about to enter a terrestrial paradise, where there would be no 
tears, not a shadow of grief, and nothing, in fact, but joy. It 
would seem as if they thought their lives were destined to be one 
perpetual feast, passed in the midst of flowers and sunshine * 
without a cloud to overshadow its brightness. A closer examina- 
tion of married life discloses certain imperative duties to be per-* 
formed, many difficulties to surmount, trials, also, and suffering to 
be faced and accepted with courage and resignation. These are 
some of the shoals of matrimony upon which love, without religion 
for a pilot, must infallibly make shipwreck. We will admit that 
we are most of us ready to make a sacrifice for those we loved 
once ; it is more difficult to do so a second time. After that it 
becomes an impossibility, and love vanishes from the scene. Can 
you not guess the origin of these vexations which arise so soon 
after marriage ? Do you ask why two people who loved each 
other at first can no longer bear to be together ? Shall I tell 
you why ? Because they have not been able to sacrifice their own 
wishes to each other. You are surprised at the unhappy result, 
, and you say : " It seemed such a happy marriage : they were 
adapted to each other in every way, in mind, and taste, and 
character. There were sufficent means, there was everything." 
But I answer you: "The fundamental element of happiness — » 
religion — was left out, and when the trials of life came the whole 
edifice crumbled to the ground." And, in fact, do you think it 
an easy matter to practise self-sacrifice without religion ? I 
certainly believe that it is just possible that two perfectly sympa- 
thetic natures can make sacrifices for each other, but for a certain 
time only, and even this is an exceptional case. 

I would show you the true picture of what a Christian 
marriage should be. The Christian husband and the Christian 



90 



Sermon 9* 



wife believe it to be the most solemn act of their lives when they 
are joined together in Holy Matrimony in the presence of God 
.and in the sight of man. When they have plighted their troth 
to each other, and before the Altar have pledged their vows, 
which will be for ever after registered by the Angels of Heaven — 
it is then that religion has bid them remember that their present 
joy is fleeting : that mere earthly affections which are not purified 
and sanctified by God's Holy Spirit are more transient than the 
flowers of the held. Then when they are confronted with the 
stern realities of life, and each day only serves to dispel some fond 
illusion : when they find many a disappointment in store for 
them, what do these young people do ? Do they turn to the 
•world, or perhaps depend upon the strength of their moral 
character ? No ; mindful of their high calling, they turn to the 
Cross of Christ, and learn from their Master the lesson of self- 
sacrifice. It is- their secret, and why should it be even known to 
the world ? 

Oh ! how I pity those who banish religion from their homes, 
and so prepare the way for many a sad day and hour. How 
many a deed of violence will there be, such as may be read in the 
newspapers every day ! Nor is this all. A family does not consist 
only of the husband and wife : it is made up of children : children 
who, if they are the joy and comfort of their parents, bring with 
them also grave anxieties and cares. The birth of a child implies 
a grave responsibility to the parents. The child has not only a 
body, but a soul. It is not enough to care for the body : the 
soul must be carefully trained ; strength, dignity, and faith must 
be instilled into it. And while the soul learns its relative duties 
towards God and man, the heart must also be taught to lift itself 
up to God in prayer. But, my brethren, without religion, do you 
think yourselves capahle of fulfilling such a difficult and delicate 
mission ? I ask you : If you do not believe in God, if you do noi 
believe in the immortality of the soul, what reason is there that 
you should care for the future destiny of the souls of your chil- 
dren ? But if you bring up your children without religion, they 
will be tyrants in their childhood, on terms of insolent friendship 



91 



with you in their youth, and, later on, your torment and your 
shame. Thus you will be made to expiate the crime of endea- 
vouring to found a home without God, without religion. Your 
family, like the skeleton of a ship stranded upon the rocks, will 
serve as a warning to others who may be disposed to made ship- 
wreck of their happiness from a similar cause. You say that 
children are in these days insubordinate, ill-conducted : that the 
tone of their moral conduct is low. Why do you complain ? At 
Sparta, when a child was born, he was placed on his father's 
knees. If the father looked at the child, it was allowed to live ; 
if the father did not look upon the child, it was condemned to die. 
Well, parents, your children die a moral death, because you have 
not fooked into their souls. You constitute yourselves guardians 
of their worldly goods, but not of their principles ; these, being 
altogether lost sight of, cease to govern their actions. You say 
that your children have a low moral tone of conduct. But who 
is to be the guardian of morality if it is not religion ? To what 
purpose can education without religion serve ? It can only serve 
to foster a spirit of irreverence. You say your children are 
insubordinate. And why ? Because they have no respect. And 
why have they no respect ? Because religious principles have 
not been instilled into them. And this is God's own justice. 
How can you expect to see respect shown to the earthly father, 
if there is none shown to our Father which is in Heaven ? If the 
authority of God is despised, the authority of man cannot escape 
being trampled under foot. The father has no one to thank but 
himself, for, from the day he gave up religion, the sceptre of 
authority fell from his hands. God has willed that the father 
should be in his family both priest and king : a priest to offer 
prayer to God on behalf of himself, his wife, and his children ; a 
king to lead them to heaven. But what influence can a father 
have on his children if he has no religion, or if he is indifferent 
to it ? What can such a father say to a son whose mind has 
been led astray by error, whose heart has been corrupted by 
vice ? What means can he employ to get him back again into 
the path of virtue ? Will he invoke the Name of God, which be 



92 



Sermon 9* 



has himself never pronounced, except in blasphemy ? Will he 
instance the law of God, which he has continually transgressed 
without scruple ? Will he invoke religion ? What religion ? He 
has none ; he does not practise any himself. Will he insist upon 
his rights as a father ? My brethren, this last appeal may make 
a certain impression upon those who are not a prey to their 
passions ; but in the hour of strong temptation, then these words 
will not suffice, for they can be met with the reply: "Do you 
respect the rights of your Father which is in Heaven ? " There- 
fore you see that for the unhappy father there remains no weapon 
but such as can be turned against himself. Can you imagine a 
more miserable state of things ? And if this state of things is 
miserable for the father, what must it be for the mother ? • The 
mother! I doubt, my brethren, if, in all creation, God has made 
anything more beautiful than a mother's love. Is not the mother 
the least imperfect representative of that Divine attribute which 
combines in one, love and tenderness, mercy and self-devotion? 
The mother is the angel of home, but on condition only that the 
foundation of that home is religion. Nor can the home know a 
sweeter, holier influence than hers if it is a religious influence. 
But what is to become of a woman without religion ? In her 
gentleness, in her frailty, what is she to lean upon for support, 
if not upon religion ? Without religion how can she make either 
a good wife or a good mother ? She may love her child as her 
natural offspring, but she will care for his body, and not for his 
soul, for she will have failed to understand that her mission is to 
cherish his spiritual life. I can well understand why the i 
enemies of religion make it their first business to undermine a 
woman's faith, because so long as the child is taught by his mother, I 
he will believe in God. Nor can her holy teachings be ever 
totally erased from his mind, however many and evil a lesson may 
be learnt in after life. And, my brethren, when women have 
ceased to have faith in God and to worship Him, do you think 
that they will be more likely to be faithful to you and to their 
homes — more disposed to sacrifice their wishes to yours — more; 
anxious to please you ? Will such women make more devoted 



jfamtlB 3Lite. 



OS 



mothers ? Will they be better able to educate their children ? 
My brethren, believe me, those who undermine the religious faith 
of women are but preparing, with their own hands, the dishonour 
and ruin of their homes. God has planted religion and purity in 
the heart of woman. Deprive her of religion, and what becomes 
of her purity ? And then what follows ? The husband dis- 
appointed in his home, seeks relaxation in unlawful pleasures, and 
to forget his domestic grievances in other consolations to which 
he feels he has a right. The woman no longer cares for her 
home : it ceases to have any interest for her. And the mother 
thinks she has done everything for her child when it has been 
fed and clothed, leaving it to its own devices, allowing it to 
associate with either bad companions, or, even worse, to the care 
of unprincipled or indifferent teachers. Such being the state of 
things, it is not wonderful if children have neither love nor respect 
for their home but simply look upon it as a prison, whence they will 
escape as •oon as they can. Now what is the consequence of all 
this ? It is a simple one, and easy to be understood. The sacred 
ties of family life being loosened, if not altogether dissolved, 
fathers, mothers, and children following their own devices, fall 
into evil courses, which are a disgrace to themselves, to their homes, 
and to their country. We will take for example the case of a man 
who squanders on the Sunday his weekly earnings in the society 
of bad companions, never thinking of his children, who are 
entirely dependent on him ; and when he returns home in the 
evening he cannot but be conscious of the reproaches due to him, 
even if he is spared the expression of them. I will not paint the 
scenes which ensue in a home where coldness and indifference 
have degenerated into the fiercest hatred and strife. What is to 
become of the children who grow up in such an atmosphere ? 
With such an example before them, what can they do but fall a 
prey 'to every vice ? and if they commit crimes their parents have 
neither the courage nor the right to reprove them. This is the 
picture of a home without religion. But there is yet another 
touch to be added to it. You know there is no more beautiful 
sight than that of an old man surrounded by his children, who 



94 



Sermon 9* 



love, and honour, and obey him. Who can portray the happiness 
of such a man when he receives the caresses of his little ones, 
the loving attentions of his elder children ? And when infirmities 
overtake him, he has the unspeakable consolation of knowing 
that his children will not forsake him, but nurse him and care 
for him in the hour of his weakness and distress. Thus, my 
brethren, the sorrows of age can be lessened, and, when death 
approaches, the anguish of parting can be softened by the certain 
hope of meeting again in Heaven those we have so fondly loved 
upon earth. But no such comfort can be felt in a family where 
there is no religion. With heathen coldness and indifference the 
children allude to their parents' old age, almost reproaching them 
for having lived so long ! Many and bitter are the scenes which 
ensue : parents tyrannized over by their children, children in 
constant warfare with their parents, whose death they invoke 
with imprecations ; whilst the father and mother, in terror and 
anguish, treasure up the recollection of the parricidal curse that 
they may lay it before the Throne of God, in Whose presence 
they are about to appear ; and thence it will return, with fearful 
retribution, upon the heads of their undutiful children. 

My brethren, amid the lamentations which rise every day 
from the deserted homestead and the desolate hearth — I can 
plainly discern two voices utttering their several complaints — 
the one voice is the voice of grief, the other is the voice of 
rebellion. The voice of grief is that of the parents as they reap 
the harvest of disappointment and misery, which is all the return 
they are to receive for their love and tenderness. The voice of 
rebellion is that of the children who, led astray by the modern 
theories, will not submit to their parents' authority, and think 
themselves on an equality with them. But I would have you to 
observe that these unhappy parents, and these rebellious children,, 
are but the natural result of the home where there is no religion. 
In the days of the Deluge, when the earth was covered with the 
waters, the Ark planned by Almighty God floated safely upon the 
surface of the deep, and from that Ark afterwards there issued 
the one family which had not incurred the Divine vengeance* 



jfamttB %ifc. 



The waters of despair are once more spreading over the face of 
the earth ; landmark after landmark disappears from our sight. 
Faith, tradition, and morality are engulfed before our eyes. 
Where shall we look for safety ? where shall we find our ark of 
safety, if not in the sanctity and security of family life — -tlia 
unalterable love of a father's or a mother's heart ? Christian 
parents, hasten, then, to the rescue now, for the danger is 
imminent ; it increases every day. It is to you that the country 
appeals for help : it is for you to reinstate the social condition of 
mankind. 





06 



Sermon 10. 



4 



X. 

PAIN. 

My Bkethren, — We have just seen that family life without the ! 
guidance of religion is, if not an impossibility altogether, so fatal:? 
a mistake that there does not exist in all God's creation a sadder j 
spectacle, or one which contains more certain promise of mis- 
fortune, desolation and hopeless misery. But there is yet another I 
.condition of humanity which has, if possible, still more imperative i 
need of religion. My brethren, there are in religion two kinds of j 
mysteries. The first of these relates to God and His works ; the; 
second relates to man and his immortal destiny. It is the delight ) 
..of the sceptic and unbeliever to endeavour to pry into and drag ! 
into discussion the former of the two kinds of mysteries, those 
which relate to God because, being far beyond the reach of human : 
intellect, the attempt to examine and explain them must always 
result in failure. But, my brethren, it is not for us to know 
— and the knowledge would be of little avail to us — the mystery i 
of the Trinity, or how there can be Three Persons in one God. 
It is not for us to understand the mystery of the Incarnation, or 
the nature of the Sacraments which Christ has ordained in His 
Church upon earth. These are the " secret things which belong 
unto the Lord our God." Can we tell how it is that the nourish- 
ment we imbibe becomes part of our substance ? Do we understand, 
can we explain, the continuance of generation after generation 
upon earth — the generations of our fellow- creatures who live 
under our very eyes ? And yet we affect to understand that 
which their Creator has done, or what he is going to do. This 
pretension on our part is as absurd as it is arrogant. But there 
: are, however, other mysteries, which we have a right to 
.examine for ourselves, and to find out their purpose if we cannot 
.discern their method of operation ; and these are the mysteries 
of nature, becauss God, having gifted us with intelligence, would 



H>atm 



97 



have us analyse them for ourselves. Now, does it require much 
study to make the discovery that we are all of us predestined to 
pain ? It is in pain that our mother gives birth to us ; it is pain 
which heralds our entrance into the world.* It is pain which is 
everywhere around us upon earth. Why does pain exist ? This, 
my brethren, will be the subject of to-day's sermon. We shall 
see that it is to religion that we must look for consolation in 
suffering ; and that not only suffering is our inevitable lot upon 
earth, but that it is for our advantage to have to undergo pain 
and suffering. The subject is not only one full of importance, 
but it is one of immense comfort to us all. 

My brethren, the existence of pain is, then, an ascertained 
fact. If we desire further proof, we may find it either in a 
general observation of the order of the world, or in a careful 
analysis of our own individual existence. We know it, we feel it 
for ourselves, and our inward conviction is born.e out by external 
testimony : that of the individual, that of humanity, that of the 
earth. Man's individual testimony is summed up in the sentence 
with which we are all but too sadly familiar : — " Man that is born 
of a woman, hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery." 
Pain, indeed, seems to be our atmosphere — the very air we 
breathe. It meets us at every turn in our path of life. The child 
comes forth and enters upon life with a cry of pain. He grows 
up, he feels the first thrill of pleasure and happiness : he is about 
to twine the garland of pleasure, he is about to quaff the cup of 
happiness, but suddenly he stops with an exclamation of pain. 
What has happened ? While twining his garland he has been 
pricked by its thorns, and before he has finished his draught of 
happiness he has become aware that there are dregs of misery at 
the bottom of it sufficient to embitter all the joys of life. What 
is the reason of this mystery ? Let us follow him through the 
other phases of his existence, and we shall find that the track of 
sorrow and suffering will extend itself along the whole length of 

* " And when I was born, I drew in the common air and fell upon the 
earth, which is of like nature, and the first voice which I uttered was crying, 
as all others do " ( Wisdom vii. 3). 
H 



98 Sermon 10. 



his career, from the cradle to the tomb : athwart the thousand- 
and-one illusions of youth, the disappointments of mature 
life the feebleness of age- everywhere, at all periods of his 
existence, pain is his inseparable companion, whatever may 
be his path in life. We will consider the path of learning. As 
the first conscious effort of his body was one of pam, so the first 
conscious efforts of his mind will be a torture to him. If it is m tne 
sweat of his face that he must eat his bread, no less mental enort 
is required to supply the feast of reason to the mind Our body 
seems, indeed, constructed with every capacity for suffering ; and 
this is the testimony of the individual. But this is not enough : 
we have also the testimony of humanity. How often do you not 
hear a child say to his mother, or to his teacher : " Tell me a 
story that will make me cry " ? The pathos of the drama has the 
most powerful effect upon us in after-life, and will stir our hearts 
to their very depths. Here is the testimony of humanity. Tne 
earth bears its testimony to the same truth ; the earth, and all 
the creatures which inhabit it, and nature itself, participates in 
the universal suffering. What does St. Paul say ? The ^hoU 
creation " groaneth and travaileth in pain together." Well, then, 
whence comes pain? Would the Author of all things have 
created us out of nothing, merely to subject us to pam ? Does 
the Almighty Father, from His Throne in Heaven, take pleasure m 
the contemplation of the sufferings of His creatures upon the 
earth beneath Him ? Were it so, my brethren, I should have 
no right to say to you that God is a God of mercy, and m despair 
I should raise my eyes to heaven, and say: << Why hast Thou, 
then, given me life, if it is only to make me suffer ? No ; we 
must put away from us the blasphemous thought. Man is the 
cause of all the evils he has to endure. Take up the book which 
from age to age the generations of humanity have reverently 
handled as the Word of God. Take the Bible, and on the first 
page you will find the explanation of pain, the solution of the 
mystery which has caused, and must ever cause, the torment of 
humanity. What does the Bible say to you ? It tells you that 
God having created the two first creatures of the human race 



pain. 



99 



allowed tliem to be the arbiters of their own destiny ; while He 
put them to a proof which was to be decisive both for themselves 
and their descendants. But, alas ! only the two progenitors of our 
race failed : they yielded to the first temptation, and then they 
heard the voice of God saying to the serpent : " Because thou 
hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and above every 
beast of the field ; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt 
eat all the days of thy life. . . . Unto the woman He said, I will 
greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception ; in sorrow thou 
shalt bring forth children ; and thy desire shall be to thy husband, 
and he shall rule over thee. And unto Adam He said, Because 
thou hast hearkened to the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of 
the tree, of which I commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat 
of it : cursed is the ground for thy sake ; in sorrow shalt thou eat 
of it all the days of thy life ; Thorns also and thistles shall it 
bring forth to thee : and thou shalt eat the herb of the field : In 
the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto 
the ground ; for out of it wast thou taken ; for dust thou art, and 
unto dust shalt thou return " (Gen. hi. 14-19). Here lies the ex- 
planation of the origin of evil and pain. Evil and pain spring 
from the abuse of freedom, from the transgression of the 
law of God.* "We suffer because we are the children of 
the first transgressor of God's law. But you will answer : 
"How could Adam transmit his sin to us?" Tell me 
how could he transmit his life to us, and I will tell you 
how he has transmitted his sin to us.f Therefore, my brethren, 
we must suffer : this is a law we are doomed to submit to, because 
we are the children of a guilty father. Man may toss about on 
his bed of pain, he will, nevertheless, remain always tied to it 



* We are reminded of the opening lines of Paradise Lost — 
" Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit 
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 
Brought death into the world and all our woe." 
t Compare Art. IX. " Original Sin ... is the fault and corruption of 
the nature of every man that naturally is engendered of the offspring of 
Adam," &c. 



100 



Sermon to. 



with a chain that cannot be broken. There are rare occasions 
in our lives when we find some unexpected moment of happiness, 
some reminiscence of the past, some anticipation of the future ; 
but how fleeting are such moments ! Ah, my brethren, earthly 
happiness may be compared to the line of the horizon — the 
nearer we approach happiness, the farther it recedes from us. 
Pain is the great reality of this life ; it is such an essential 
property of our nature, that all the teaching of man's philosophy 
may be said to resolve itself into the solution of the one problem 
of pain. Pain is not only the chastisement of sin, but it is good 
for man — a salutary exercise of his endurance ; and therefore it 
is not only necessary, but it is for our advantage that we surfer. 
St. Paul makes this doctrine very plain to us : " If ye endure 
chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons ; for what son is 
he whom the father chasteneth not ? But if ye be without chastise- 
ment, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards, and not 
sons" (Heb. xii, 7, 8). ' 6 Now no chastening for the present 
seemeth to be joyous, but grievous : nevertheless, afterward it 
yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are 
exercised thereby " (Heb. xii. 11). Yes, in pain it is not only 
the severity of the Judge, but the love of the Father that we 
recognise. It is through pain we are made to realise the love, 
and goodness, and wisdom of our Father. ' 6 But how is this ? 1 
you will ask ; ' 6 how can it be the love of God for us which makes 
Him inflict pain ? Is not this an insufferable paradox ? " A 
paradox ? — No, my brethren. Do we not often cause pain to 
those who love us ? — ay, even to those we most tenderly love ? 
The more we love, the more suffering we are apt to cause. Let 
us see. Your little boy may be playing on the edge of a precipice : 
he wants to gather a flower, to catch a butterfly. What do you 
do ? You rush and snatch him up in your strong arms, and 
notwithstanding his cries, you carry him away. Are you wrong 
in causing him this pain ? Or, again, there is that imprudent 
little fellow who has taken hold of a weapon, a loaded revolver : 
it might go off. You rush and snatch it away from him, not 
heeding his cries as he stamps his feet with rage. And are you 



101 



not right ? Yes : he himself will tell you so one day. Another 
example : Your child is ill : the doctor comes and prescribes a 
bitter medicine ; and you, his mother, force him to drink this 
medicine. Perhaps an operation is necessary. Well, it is the 
mother who will hold him in her arms. Her 4 heart will sink 
at seeing her child's blood flow under the surgeon's knife, and yet 
she holds him firmly in her arms, notwithstanding his groans, 
notwithstanding his struggles. Of the two, it is the mother who 
suffers most. No one can accuse her of cruelty. If she did not 
love her child, she would not inflict this suffering upon him. If 
then, we can appreciate all the strength and nobility of conduct 
shown by earthly parents in their dealings with their children, 
why should we be slow to recognise the justice of God's dealings 
towards us ? There is no doubt that we shall never be able to 
understand the true meaning of pain. If we do not believe in 
God ; if we do not know that God has made us for Himself, for a 
nobler, higher destiny ; if we only look upon this world in the 
light of final lists where certain champion forces are arrayed 
against each other with an inevitably fatal result — if such is the 
case, what is there, my brethren, left for me to say to you ? Are 
you crushed and oppressed by sorrow ? There is nothing for it 
but to bear your grief as you can, in silence and despair, without 
having any hope in Heaven, where you have no place. This is 
the punishment of those who will not receive God. There is no 
consolation for them in life : they are comfortless. If w T e believe 
in God — oh ! my brethren, if we believe that God has made us for 
himself — if we believe that He grants us one brief moment upon 
earth in order that we may ever after live with Him in Heaven, 
then a new light — a light of consolation — breaks in upon .us, and 
even in the midst of suffering we recognise the wisdom and the 
love of God. I have no doubt that God exists. To doubt that, 
I should have to doubt my own existence. It is proved by the 
emotion of thousands at the mere sound of His name. The 
witness is within me : both heart and mind testify that God has 
created me for Himself. In creating me for Himself He has 
shown His love for me, in order that I may of my ow T n free will 



102 



Sermon 10* 



lift up my heart to Him. Here upon earth I feel myself hemmed 
in on all sides : the confines of this earth are too narrow for me, 
and I must perforce stretch beyond them as I press towards a 
boundless horizon. My brethren, if, instead of looking above, 
beyond the limits of the earth, I fasten my eyes upon the ground 
— if, instead of unfolding, I fold my wings, will not God find it 
out ? If I forget certain limits which I may not pass, will not 
God set them again for me ? And if I play on the edge of the abyss 
will God not stretch out His right hand to save me ? And if I 
grasp the weapon of the murderer or the suicide, will not God 
pluck it out of my hand ? If I am sick, will He not heal me ? 
This is how God deals with us by the mystery of pain. In the 
first place, it is through pain surely that we can gain a knowledge 
of the world in which we live : it is through pain that we are made 
to understand that this life is but the threshold of eternity. We 
try to find some quiet corner, where we would lie down in happi- 
ness, and dream that we shall never grow old. Pain and sorrow 
come ; the earth appears to us veiled and blurred, and Heaven is 
revealed to us. 

Do you call to mind, my brethren, the recent storms which 
brought terror even to the bravest heart — how the peal of the 
thunder was heard in the luried sky? How the thunderbolts 
fell from the riven clouds and struck and shattered the tallest 
trees ? The startled animals ran hither and thither, moaning and 
seeking in vain for a place of shelter ; while rain fell in torrents, 
and, trembling before so violent a convulsion of nature, we began 
to wonder if perchance the end of the world had come, and that this 

would be our last hour on earth All of a sudden, and then 

as if the Heaven and the earth had exhausted their utmost power 
in that gigantic struggle — all of a sudden there fell a great calm. 
The stillness of the evening came on, and occasional summer 
lightning — the only remnant of the storm played across the sky. 
Prom time to time the heavens seemed, as it were, to open before 
our eyes, and reveal to us a vista of farther and limitless horizon, 
till, as we gazed, we seemed to gather some faint conception of 
the great unseen world which lay behind that dark bank of clouds. 



103 



My brethren, this is what happens to us when the storm of grief 
sweeps across our lives. It may be that we are scorched by the light- 
ning, but it casts a great light upon our path. At first pain seems 
to wrap us round like a thick, dark, cloud ; but presently we 
perceive that it has, on the contrary, encircled us with a halo of 
heavenly light. There are some lessons in life that a man would 
never learn if he were exempt from pain and suffering. When 
God wills to send us pain, it is as if He cast a great light upon 
our lives. It has been well said : " In adversity the soul is drawn 
nearer and nearer to faith, whilst in prosperity the soul is drawn 
nearer and nearer to doubt." We will take the case of a happy 
and prosperous man. He has had a peaceful, tranquil life : his 
affairs have prospered, everything has gone well with him. God 
has given him a wife who is the delight of his existence. He is 
surrounded with loving and obedient children. He has done 
some good works, perhaps — at all events, his heart, is full of 
good intentions ; but he has forgotten God, and neither in the 
morning nor the evening has he any thought for Him. But he 
has no excuse for such forgetfulness, for from the time that he 
has knelt at his mother's knees and learnt from her lips to say 
Our Father, what is there that has not reminded him of God ? — 
the sun shining in its strength, the birds which sing around the 
branches — all, all creation speaks to him of God ; all combine to 
hymn His praise. Yet he had not learned to know Him. God 
takes away this man's happiness. Death enters his home : he 
loses one of his beloved children, A cloud of anguish settles upon 
his brow ; he bursts forth into lamentation : despair seizes him, 
when suddenly, as with a start,, the recollection dawns upon him 
and he exclaims : 4 ' God ! Thou art my God ! the path of sorrow 
has led me to Thee. My flesh also longeth after Thee in a barren 
and dry land, where no water is." 

My brethren, which of us is there who is not grieved and 
wearied with the burden of his sin ? Who is there who does not 
tremble when he reads the book of his conscience, and turns those 
deadly pages which are, perhaps, as numerous as the days which 
make up the sum of our lives ? Which of us, when thinking of 



104 



Sermon 10* 



the judgment and justice of God, does not feel a shudder run 
through his veins ? Scripture tells us that " without shedding of 
blood is no remission " (Heb. ix. 22) ; but " repentance," says 
St. Augustine, " is the blood of the soul." This, no doubt, is in 
itself but an imperfect sacrifice ; but by the Blood of Jesus we 
may have boldness to enter into the holiest by a new and living 
way. In all our sufferings we can keep ever before us the Passion 
of our Divine Saviour and offer them to God through Him. 
Then our sufferings, instead of irritating us, will make us 
experience the sweetest joy of consolation, will bid us lift our 
eyes in faith and trust to God, Whom we shall acknowledge, not 
as a severe judge but as the Father of all mercies. 

But there is yet another marvel in pain. The finest efforts 
human nature is capable of are due to pain. Do you see that 
block of marble which has been quarried from the mountain 
side ? That shapeless mass contains a priceless treasure which 
lies dormant till, with patient skill, the hand of the sculptor 
proceeds to call it forth. Mark his work. The countenance at 
his command begins to display its varied charms : the noble 
brow, sublime in thought, the lips which, like some living being, 
seem to move and smile. At length, complete and perfect, this 
masterpiece of sculpture has power to awaken a responsive chord 
in your heart. Well, then, my brethren, like the chisel of the 
sculptor, so is pain in the Almighty Hand of God the means by 
which He wills to form and fashion his own elect — to remove 
their original defects, and call into being courage, self-devotion, 
and all the finer qualities of their nature. There has never been 
one great person in this world who has not come through sorrow 
first, for neither genius, glory, nor even virtue, will suffice in them- 
selves to make a great character, And this is a mystery easily 
explained. St. Augustine says : 66 Human nature is small, 
because it is restricted within certain limits. The smaller a 
man's nature is, the more it loves these limits. In order to 
become great, these limits must be oveiieapt, and this requires an 
effort.'' A modern writer commenting on this passage says : 
" These limits are like the circle of fire round an insect. The 



105 



insect feels the heat, approaches the flame, shrinks back, and 
dies." The weak and cowardly soul acts like this ; but the 
noble disposition tries to cross this circle of fire. If you analyse 
the elements of a great and noble character, you will find out 
that they have all been fused together in the furnace of sorrow. 
Those who have never suffered only know the surface of life. 
As one must strike flint to call forth sparks of fire, so must we 
strike the heart to make it capable of great and noble deeds. 
Eead history, and you will see that great heroes and great men 
have ever been the privileged children of sorrow T , and that when 
the laurel comes to wreathe the furrowed brow of the poet, it is 
ever a tardy crown. Look at Dante ! Has the world produced a 
greater poet ? Is there one who can be compared to him ? 
Why is Dante so great ? Because of the depth and grandeur of 
his poetic conception. But w r ould Dante have known this depth 
and grandeur if he had not suffered ? The same can be said of 
Tasso, Milton, Homer. Out of sorrow and suffering such poets 
are born, and the hero on the battle-field, the soldier who falls in 
his country's cause, are made of the same stern stuff. Austerity 
and mortification moulded the saints of old. They met mis- 
fortune with a smile, and scorned the fear of death even w T hen 
the fire was at the stake, and the flames rose around their heads, 
because they knew that out of their very ashes God would call 
them to an immortality of happiness. This is the true effect of 
sorrow : it detaches us from the earth, lifts us up to Heaven, 
and unites us to God. Sorrow is indeed essential to man in 
order to prevent his setting his affections too much on the 
earth. 

My brethren, we have seen that pain enlightens and ennobles 
our soul, and that it detaches it from the earth, and raises us to 
Heaven : it purifies our earthly affection, and unites us to God. 
To whom, then, shall we turn in sorrow for a little comfort ? 
Shall we ask the Freethinker and the sceptic to comfort the 
fatherless and widow in their affliction ? Watch the effect, my 
brethren, for such a sight would make you bless religion and 
loathe scepticism. Blasphemers of God, you who deny the 



106 



Sermon 10* 



future life, come, here is a fine opportunity for you ! Do you> 
see that woman ? She is a mother, and has lost her only son. 
The blow, a sudden one, was horrible. Do you see her ? Poor 
mother ! she is mad with grief ! As a shipwrecked mariner she- 
seeks in vain some comfort. Go to that poor, desolate creature : 
tell her not to look up to Heaven ; tell her that Heaven does not 
exist ; tell her her son is not there. Destroy her hopes : break 
her heart. I will narrate to you an event which happened in 
your own city of Florence, and which I may almost say I wit- 
nessed, and I could point out the name and number of the street 
in which it happened. In 1882 a man was dying in the prime- 
of life, leaving a wife and four children, whom he tenderly loved. 
The doctor came : he was a Freethinker. He saw that the poor man 
w T as past all medical aid ; but, wishing to leave some comfort,, 
some consolation, this is all he could find to say : " My friend,, 
you must summon up all your philosophy.' 1 Here is comfort for 
the dying man 1 Observe that the sceptic used ambiguous terms,, 
hazy expressions, in order to hide his thoughts ; and this he does 
because he does not really know what he means : " Summon up all 
your philosophy" But, I ask you, what consolation could these 
words bring that man ? They must have fallen upon his heart, 
as a stone would fall upon a bleeding, gaping wound. What 
sense can there be in such words ? I cannot tell, unless they 
mean that their philosophy consists in nothing but brutal selfish- 
ness. Listen to the answer of that poor dying man : " Summon 
up my philosophy ! My friend, at the moment of death things- 
appear different to what they do in life. I know that it is time 
for me to summon up my faith ! " His faith ! Here is the true- 
consolation of sorrow. Faith tells us that this life is but a brief 
passage, which leads to life eternal. Oh ! my Christian brothers,, 
lift up your hearts ! What matters this world in which we live 
only for a short time ? What are the sorrows of this life in com- 
parison with the full, immense glory which is laid up for us in 
Heaven ? Let not your heart be troubled : let it not be afraid ;. 
and, far from cursing the sorrow of your present life, my brethren^ 
love it, not for its own sain, but because it prepares you for the- 



Sermon 10* 



107 



eternal reward : for everlasting life. Love it as the prologue of 
a long poem, which you will have to write at God's own dictation 
in the Great Book of eternal life. Love it as the agriculturist- 
loves the furrow in which, in the sweat of his brow, he sows the 
grain in full assurance of the harvest. Love it as the poor exile 
loves the path which leads him back to his native country. Love 
it as the young soldier loves the field of battle, where he will win 
his laurel of victory. 



108 



Sermon XL 



XL 

HOPE. 

My Brethren, — We have acknowledged that we are all subject 
to the inevitable law of pain and suffering. Man that is born of 
woman hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. In 
fact there is no one of us, however short his life may have been, 
who has not experienced his share of sufferings. The centuries 
roll on, and, as wave succeeds wave, so does each century in turn 
bring its own contribution to the vast and everflowing tide of 
human tears and misery. Man's first cry on entering the world 
is a cry of pain : a cry of pain accompanies his last sigh. From 
the cradle to the grave the short pathway of life lies along a dark 
cypress avenue : it is strewn with thorns, it is bathed in tears. 
Alas ! how many a bitter tear must we shed ! how many a part- 
ing must we endure ! how many a bitter disappointment must 
we experience ! Sorrow links itself to sorrow in a never-ending 
chain ; and just as day follows day, so does grief follow grief. 
Youth has its secret, pungent woe ; nor is the white hair of age 
exempt from grief. From the rich man's palace to the poor man's 
cottage, all are subject to the law of pain : and the sentinel who 
keeps guard before the palace gate cannot prevent its access even 
to the very foot of the throne. Yes, in all circumstances, at all 
times, and in all places ; from East to West, from North to 
South ; from the ocean's utmost isle to the heart of the sandy 
desert ; from the din and stir of the city to the peaceful country 
village, the cry of suffering has ever gone up from mankind. Is 
there no remedy for so much pain — no consolation for so much 
suffering ? Surely there is ! But where ? Shall we turn to 
our brothers in misfortune ? But what can they do to assist us ? 
They may share our sorrow and weep with us ; but they cannot 
content us, for they have need of consolation themselves. Shall 
we turn to science, to philosophy ? But in the face of grief science 



109 



and philosophy, are cold and impassive. Nor can their well- 
turned periods bring any comfort to the weary, heavy-laden heart. 
Nay, I would rather weep by myself than be consoled with 
their empty theories, their sterile maxims. Where, then, shall 
I turn for comfort ? Where can I find consolation ? In the 
religion of Christ : it alone possesses the secret of soothing our 
griefs, of binding up our wounds, of mitigating our woes ; " It 
alone," says Chateaubriand, "has been able to make a virtue of 
hope.'* Christian hope ! this our pole-star in the darkness : our 
light in the midst of the tempest : in it lies the strength, the joy 
of humanity. It is of hope that I would speak to you this 
morning : I would speak of its causes and its effects, and I would 
show you how, without it, there is nothing but utter despair to 
look for in the world. I believe you will gladly listen, because, in 
the midst of so many troubles, surrounded by so many enemies, 
it is of vital importance to us poor wayfarers through life to know 
wherein lies the hidden secret of our strength, our comfort, and 
our joy. 

My brethren, the life for which God has created man is two- 
fold : there is the present life, and there is the future life — the 
one visible, corporeal : the other spiritual. The one we enjoy in 
the present : the other only exists in our faith. One is in our 
hands : the other belongs to hope. Of these two, the one is the 
battle-field, where our powers of courage and endurance are 
subject to a constant strain : the other the exceeding recompense 
of reward which is to crown our efforts. The one is the brief 
passage over the waves of this troublesome world : the other is 
the haven where we would be. The one is time : the other is 
eternity. For this reason happiness is not to be sought for on 
earth. This life is not our rest, but it is the way which leads to 
rest. This is what St. Paul means by " the earnest expectation 
of the creature, which waiteth for the manifestation of the sons 
of God." It was made subject in hope, " because the creature 
itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of the corruption 
into the glorious liberty of the children of God " (Kom. viii. 19, 
21). Christian hope leads our thoughts beyond this life to the 



110 



Sermon XL 



life to come : it directs them to that moment when the exile will 
stretch forth his hand to his home in a transport of happiness ; 
to that moment when, having conquered in the fight, the Chris- 
tian soldier will receive the crown of victory laid up for him in 
Heaven. Yes, in all the serenity of her beauty, with her fair, 
glad eyes, and never-fading youth, hope is indeed the immortal 
child of Heaven.* From those heavenly bowers she comes to 
succour us on earth, and, just as the heroic mother of the 
Maccabees comforted the last of her children in his martyrdom, 
she addresses herself to each suffering member of humanity in 
turn ; she bids him lift his tear-stained face to Heaven, as she 
comforts him in words like these : " Thy brethren have trodden 
before thee the path of suffering to glory : they see thee, they 
cry to thee, they wait for thee, and soon thou wilt rejoin them 
and reign with them. Thou hast, it is true, to traverse this 
thorny vale of tears ; but the way is short, and it leads to Heaven. 
Thou must fight against cruel enemies ; but the reward will be 
sweet and the glory eternal. Thou must indeed undergo the 
bitterness of death ; but Heaven is the recompense of thy suffer- 
ings, and through death thou wilt attain to immortality ; thou 
wilt awake up after God's likeness, and thou wilt be satisfied 
with it, and never more wilt thou know the torment of conflicting 
desires which keep thy soul hovering betwixt Heaven and earth, 
betwixt time and eternity." In these days there is an outcry 
raised against this hope, against this heavenly aspiration which 
religion awakens in our hearts ; and there are those who would 
pin our thoughts to this world, and fill them with its cares. 
" What folly," they say, " to bid man look beyond this earth and 
raise his thoughts to Heaven ! As for hope it is nothing but a 
dream of the cloister : a fallacy which has long been exploded." 
And I reply : " This is the language of egotists, worthy of those 
who can believe in nothing which they do not see, nothing which 
they cannot handle, nothing which cannot be measured, or reckoned 

# The description recalls a lovely picture of " Hope painting the future in 
the fairest colours," by Louisa, Marchioness of Waterford, one of her most 
suggestive and most beautiful compositions. — Editor. 



TC>ope* 



111 



up in figures. And this is the language one would expect from 
those who have made gold and silver their idols, that they may 
fall down and worship them. But I ask, what do they mean, 
these rebels who have declared war against Heaven ? Have they 
never suffered in the course of their lives ? Have they never 
shed a tear ? Have they never experienced the inefficacy of all 
human comfort in time of grief ? Is it not enough that we have 
to labour upon this earth in the sweat of our brow, and to water it 
with our tears ? W ould they have us make it also the centre of 
our best and only hope ? What, my brethren, is the captive in 
his horrible dungeon never to be permitted even to get up and 
shake his chains, while he looks through his grating at the little 
patch of sky, and tries to catch a faint breath of the pure air for 
which he pines ? How could we endure the slanderous attacks 
of calumny, the poisonous darts of envy, the tyranny of the 
oppressor, if hope did not divert our thoughts to the eternal 
justice which will judge our quarrel and avenge our cause ? 
What is there to hinder our frail human nature from taking 
refuge in self-destruction when misery seems let loose upon our 
lives, in order to make havoc of our very existence, if hope did 
not turn our gaze heavenwards, and bid us have respect unto the 
recompense of reward. Oh ! wretched sceptic, renounce, if you 
will, all hope of Heaven : grovel at your ease, if you choose, upon 
the earth ; but remember there are others who have a soul for 
better things, and do not come to insult those who toil on in 
want and misery by depriving them of their last consolation — the 
hope of Heaven. It is cruelty worthy only of barbarians to rob 
a person of that which may bring comfort in his grief : which 
may perchance dry one bitter tear, even were this comfort a 
delusion — mark well what I say, were it even a delusion. We 
know that there was once a young prisoner who, to cheer his 
miserable condition, made a pet of a little spider, which learned 
to know him, and would come to him in his cell. The prisoner 
looked forward to his coming, awaited him with impatience, fed 
him every day, and made a friend of him. One day the gaoler 
noticed this, and crushed the little spider with his foot. Ah ! 



112 



Sermon it. 



poor Silvio Pellico, even this consolation was taken from 
him ! It was a trifle, and yet anyone thinking over it would say : 
" What a cruel thing to do : what a brute that man was ! " But 
to deprive a suffering man of the hope of Heaven, is to cut away 
his last alleviation in sorrow, and plunge him into the abyss of 
despair ; or as if, when a drowning man clutched hold of a bush 
upon the bank, you were to wrest it from him, and push him 
back into the remorseless current of the stream. You may as 
well say to a starving, suffering man: " You hunger and you 
thirst, you are cold and naked ; but you have nothing else to hope 
for, for there is nothing beyond the grave. " Do hearts so cruel, 
so hard as this exist ? But this is by no means a true account 
of our condition upon earth. Our condition here is that of an 
exile banished from his country. These days of exile will have 
an end : the chains by which our soul is held captive will soon 
be burst asunder. Does the burden of life seem heavy to you ? 
Take comfort, then ; look to Heaven : there you will find rest 
from your weariness, there you will find a haven from the tem- 
pest. You suffer here below, but in a few days, in a few months, 
in a few years, you will be for ever launched upon the ocean of 
happiness. 

Oh ! my poorer brethren, if you who are here listening to me to- 
day are suffering from hunger, thirst, nakedness, or — and it is the 
worst pang of all — if you are surrounded by your little ones asking 
you for bread, and you have nothing but tears and kisses to give 
them, lookup and be comforted, lift up your heads, for your redemp- 
tion draweth nigh (St. Luke xxi. 28). A little while, and your 
rude dwellings will be exchanged for heavenly mansions. God 
Himself will wipe away the tears from your eyes, and each sorrow 
that you have bravely borne, each tear that you have shed here, 
will have been treasured up by his Holy Angels to shine as a gem 
in your immortal crown. There will be no more misery, no 
more pain, no more grief : God will receive us into the ever- 
lasting arms of his mercy, and we shall be for ever with Him. 
But on what does it rest, this hope which is so beautiful, so true, 
so ineffable in its consolation ? It rests on a foundation which 



113 



cannot be shaken : it rests upon the promise of Jesus Christ our 
Lord ; it rests upon His Cross. Listen to the words of Jesus 
Christ. One day we read, Jesus seeing the multitude, went up 
into a mountain. He looked down thence upon the people gathered 
together in their misery, in their suffering, and He opened His 
mouth, and taught them saying : " Blessed are the poor, blessed 
are they that mourn, blessed are those who are persecuted for 
righteousness' sake." What does the Lord Jesus say ? " Blessed 
are the poor ? " But, Lord, hast not Thou felt the privations of 
poverty ? " Blessed are they that mourn ? " But, Lord, hast not 
Thou known the bitterness of tears ? " Blessed are those who 
are persecuted for righteousness' sake ? " But, Thou, when Thou 
wast on earth, didst Thou not experience the bitterness of persecu- 
tion? Then wherefore, Lord, dost Thou call them " blessed " ? 
Because theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven I Now you know the 
reason, and it is Jesus Christ Who says it : Jesus Christ, W T ho is 
Lord of the Kingdom of Heaven, because Jesus Christ is God. 

And how does Jesus Christ ratify these words? By His 
Death upon the Cross : " And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, 
will draw all men unto Me." Yes, lifted up upon the Cross 
dying for all mankind. The Lord Jesus beheld from thence all the 
generations which have come and gone upon the earth, all those 
which were passing then, and all those which were to come, all 
swept along by the vast tide of human suffering and tears. I 
have compassion on the multitude," He said, when he saw them 
fainting in the desert ; and out of the fulness of His infinite love 
He took away the sin and the sorrow, and bare it His Own Self 
in His Own Body on the Tree. And the sorrows of life, which 
have been sanctified by Jesus Christ, are sent back to man in 
order that they may work out His sanctifi cation. For Christ did 
not promise His Disciples earthly joys, but on the contrary, He 
says : ' ' If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and 
take up his cross, and follow Me." St. Paul tells us to glory in 
the Cross of Christ : the sufferings of the moment will work for 
us an exceeding weight of glory. What strength, what comfort, 

what joy should not this hope bring to the sad and weary heart ! 
i 



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If tlio hope of delusive gain can sustain the pilot in the midst of 
the tempest ; if the peasant can joyfully bear the burden of labour 
in the hope of an uncertain harvest, exposed though he may be 
to the severity of winter, or to the fierce heat of summer ; and 
if that great conqueror, whose mighty footprints still remain 
upon the earth, could reanimate his drooping soldiers by pointing 
to the glory which awaited them at the Egyptian Pyramids, what 
may not hojje be able to effect in our hearts — hope which is 
founded on the promise of God, hope which has for its object no 
earthly transitory joy, but which finds its fulfilment in the certain, 
perfect, everlasting happiness of Heaven. 

My brethren, the annals of hope can record many an heroic 
deed, many a sublime triumph. You have read of the noble 
army of martyrs : their sufferings, their triumph over pain and 
death ; of the saints and holy men of old : their fasts and vigils,, 
privation and self-imposed discipline, endured without a murmur 
or complaint ; of Christian maidens who have devoted their lives 
to God, and for Christ's sake have courted suffering and death. 
You can see for yourselves the Sisters of Mercy ministering to the 
sick, who go about among you asking alms for the poor. Speak to 
them of worldly pleasures : they show you the woollen garments 
which cover them, they point to the straw pallet on which they rest, 
and they speak to you of prayer. But what is it which works 
this change in their souls ? What is the motive which inspires 
them ? It is the hope of Heaven. They can see through the 
open gates of Heaven, and, like St. Paul, they glory in their bonds 
in Christ. I would not say that the man who hopes is anymore 
exempt from suffering than he is who is without hope. But look, 
how great is the difference between them ! Look at the man who has 
the consolation of hope ! There is a noble resignation even in the 
midst of suffering. If he speaks, it is to follow the Divine 
example, and say : " If it be possible, let this cup pass from me > 
but nevertheless not my will, but Thine be done." The other, 
who is without hope, bears the stamp of a deep sorrow : there is- 
an expression of terror in his features : he seems well-nigh 
desperate. The one inspires sympathy : the other horror. You 



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115 



speak words of comfort to the one : you can scarcely dare to look 
at the other. And how could it be otherwise ? He who hopes 
for nothing beyond the grave, dwells with bitterness on the 
happiness he has lost. He feels the evils which oppress him : 
he curses God, curses the human beings whom he calls the 
instruments of God, and ends a life of misery either in despair 
or by committing suicide. Both suffer ; but what a difference 
between the resignation of the one and the despair of the other ! 
Remember the scene of the Crucifixion. Look at the crucified 
thief to the right of the Cross of the Lord. He blasphemes and 
curses before hope entered his heart ; but as soon as hope takes 
possession of him, he becomes calm : his countenance is lit up 
with holy joy. "Lord, remember me," he says, "when Thou 
comest into Thy kingdom " ; and Jesus answers him : " This day 
shalt thou be with Me in Paradise." 

Let us look back on the first days of Christianity, and recall 
St. Ignatius of Antioch, that martyr who gained so great a 
reputation by his zeal : look at him in company with the gladiator 
who is about to die in the arena. What a difference between St. 
Ignatius, who looks upon death as the nearest road to Heaven, 
and the gladiator, who undergoes it as a necessity from which 
he cannot escape. The gladiator passes in front of Caesar's 
throne, and salutes him with the prescribed formality: "Ave, 
Caesar, morituri te salutant ! " * The fight begins : the gladiator 
is wounded, he falls, and, in falling, sees around him that 
immense Roman multitude. He thinks of his country in the far 
distant regions, of his wife and children, of his parents deserted 
in their old age. In the very act of dying he invokes the army 
of barbarians to come and avenge his blood, and with fierce im- 
precations draws his latest breath. St. Ignatius, on the other 
hand, walks down to the arena : the peace of God sits radiant on 
his brow. There is a smile on his lips as lie speaks thus to his 
disciples : ' 6 Do not pray that the wild beasts may be gentle with 
me. I know what I desire ; I desire to reach Heaven quickly, 
and that I may do so I desire to be torn in pieces by these wild 



* " Hail Cresar ! those about to die salute thee." 



116 



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beasts." And when he heard the animals roar, he exclaimed : 
; * Come, I do not fear you.' 7 The wild beasts rushed into the 
arena, and in an instant, torn by them, he fell to the ground. 
As he lay there in a pool of blood, while the film of death 
gathered over his eyes, he looks up, sees the vast concourse of 
people who, in their savage joy, are rejoicing over his fall ; but 
he does not curse their heartless cruelty. There is no despair in 
his heart. Looking up steadfastly to Heaven, he calls to mind 
the saints and angels, and the great cloud of witnesses, and prays 
to God that his blood may return in blessings upon that city. It 
is hope that sustains him in death : in hope he breathes his last 
blessing ; in hope he utters his last prayer. But we need not go 
back to the early centuries of Christianity to seek for the effects 
of hope : we may find them to-day all around us. Speak to the 
Sisters of Charity : ask them how they meet the misery in the 
midst of which their work is cast : what they do when they enter the 
sad haunts of poverty and crime ; and they will answer you that their 
task is to bear the lamp of hope into the midst of suffering, and 
that with that they can shed light upon the darkest sorrows of 
humanity. Hope, then, may enter the poor man's cottage and 
the rich man's palace, an ever-welcome guest. Over the pale 
features of the captive in his dungeon it can spread a gladdening 
ray, and, by reminding him of the freedom of his soul, save him 
from a last despair. Nay, more. Hope penetrates the closed 
doors of the convict's cell, upon whom justice has passed sentence 
— an outcast, and condemned. Yet, still undaunted, hope will 
lift the head weighed down in misery and shame, and claim her 
place upon the clouded and despairing brow. Hope seats herself 
beside the bed of sickness ; here, in power of consolation, she 
reigns supreme. Our learned men may boast, if they will, of 
having furthered the progress of art, of having discovered the 
truth ; but they have not yet been able to further the art of com- 
forting sorrow and suffering. Let them come and stand beside 
this bed of pain. Here is an unhappy sufferer, struggling with 
one of those diseases which slowly consume life. Look at him. 
It is a poor man's cottage : the sick man is alone ; there is no 



117 



one at hand to help him in his approaching struggle with death. 
It is not here that you may look to find the Freethinker and the 
sceptic, who have no hope of Heaven. This is no place for them. 
They must, perforce, remain dumb at the sight of such suffering. 
They could not have the face to repeat their high-flown words. 
The utmost they could do would be to produce a little money 
and turn their heads the other way. But if they were called 
upon to find some comfort for the soul of the suffering man, what 
could they say to him ? What will they say ? Perhaps they 
will say : "Poor fellow, I feel for you ; I should like to share 
your sufferings ; I sympathise with you all the more, inasmuch 
as I have myself suffered." But, my brethren, in these words 
can you not discern a something full of sadness, like the sound 
of a funeral bell ? Perhaps they will say : " Do not think about 
it." Do not think about it ? You may as well tell a wounded 
soldier not to think of his wounds ; does not the pain compel 
him to do so ? Or, perhaps, they will say — what one hears con- 
tinually — " You must be patient." Patient ? The poor man 
will reply : "But I have been patient : for ten, twenty, or thirty 
years I have suffered pain, and misery, and want."- And what 
is the meaning of " patience " when unaccompanied by the hope 
of Heaven ? "I understand very well," the sceptic will say : 
f all the man has got to do is to stifle his sighs, and groans, and, 
instead of struggling, just accept his fate." And the man may 
fairly answer : " Patience is nothing but an insult to my misery." 
" Well, then, suffer and die." This, then, is the supreme con- 
solation that can be supplied by human wisdom. It is now our 
turn, as priests of God, to bring comfort to that poor suffering 
man whose soul is as precious in the sight of God as the soul of 
a king. We will hold the cross before his closing eyes : we will 
bring it within reach of the cold hands now stiffening in death, 
of the last kiss from the clammy lips, and we will say to him : 
f Be strong, my son : be of good courage. Hope in the infinite 
mercy of God. He will not leave thee, or forsake thee. He is 
near thee now, is about to be revealed, and from His Almighty 
hand thou shalt receive the crown of righteousness laid up for 



118 



Sermon 11* 



tliee in Heaven. Thou knowest that the leaves must fall before 
the branch can grow green again, and this corruptible frame fall 
to pieces before we can receive one that is incorruptible from the 
hand of God. Be strong : be of good courage. A few days — 
nay, perhaps only a few hours — of suffering borne with resigna- 
tion, and this mortality will put on immortality, and from the 
safe shore of eternal peace thou wilt look back upon this world, 
and say : " My earthly sufferings were not worthy of so great a 
reward.' 7 Now look at the dying man, and you will see that 
despair and misery have fled away, and that Divine peace instead 
has settled on his brow. He turns to his wife, his children who 
surround his bed, and says to them : " Weep no more. I am 
dying, it is true; but I am happy. Our parting is only for a 
time : we shall meet again ; we shall see each other in Heaven." 
His hopes are centred on the Cross of Christ, and in that hope 
he dies. But, my brethren, there is yet one more scene I 
would bring before your eyes, more piteous, more pathetic 
still. Death has claimed his prey. Cold, motionless, in the 
most awful stillness, the lifeless form lies before you. It may be 
your father,, or your mother, or the son you love more than 
yourself : the light of your eyes. Let those who do not believe 
in Heaven come near, and stand before the corpse. Let them 
come and see those features on which death has set his seal : let 
them dare to fix their eyes on those inanimate remains. What 
does their science tell them ? Is it, indeed, an eternal farewell ? 
Is it, then, indeed, only a little clay, a little dust, that has 
claimed and received the fondest affections of our hearts ? " Oh ! 
my mother ! my mother ! " — such might be the passionate cry — 
" I was not able to be present at thy last sigh, I was not able to 
receive thy last kiss, and am I never to see thee again, my 
mother ? " The name alone can stir my heart to its innermost 
depths. Has this love been lavished on an object which is about 
to be laid earth to earth, dust to dust ? Oh ! hapless sceptic, 
begone ! Either you have never loved, or you have never been 
present at the death of one you loved. It is impossible to hold 
fast to this doctrine of desolation and despair, and at the same 



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119 



time, watch the last moments of those we love. But if, indeed, 
you know what it is to love, and it has been your fate to see your 
beloved one die, then go and break your head upon the marble 
tomb : you have believed in nothing : you may find your consola- 
tion in nothing also. But for us, who have hope in Heaven, let 
us take comfort, for there we shall meet again those we have 
loved upon earth, whose death has caused us such bitter grief. 
And when your heart is full of anguish as you kneel beside the 

tomb, which hides those you love from your sight for ever 

What do I say— /or ever I No ! no ! come yet once more fair hope, 
thou child of God, and say to him who is about to dash his head on 
the grave that covers the mother that he has so fondly loved, that 
his mother is not there; tell the mother that her son is not there; tell 
the husband that the wife is not there. They are in Heaven, and 
there you will find them again ; for in= Heaven we recognise, we 
love, we meet again and recognise those we love, because man 
does not lose the personal identity he has received from God. 
Therefore I say, Weep not ! To-day God gives you strength to 
suffer : to-morrow he will crown you with glory. Take comfort 
and pray, and you will find that an ineffable consolation will- 
steal over your soul, and that you will be able to look beyond the 
grave and the miserable remnants of mortality to the eternal 
home ' ' Where the righteous live for evermore ; their reward also 
is with the Lord, and the care of them is with the Most High. 
Therefore they shall receive a glorious kingdom, and a beautful 
crown from the Lord's hand, for with His right hand shall He 
cover them, and with His arm shall He protect them " (Wisdom 
v. 15, 16). We will then reserve our pity for those who have no 
hope. Ah ! hapless people, for when everything has been taken 
from them, when death has robbed them of those they love, when 
afflicted by trouble or grief, What is left for them to do ? They 
have nothing to hope for on earth : and their only refuge lies in 
suicide, the revolver, or the poisonous draught. And then what 
do they hope for ? What awaits them then ? Let us, indeed, 
pity and pray for such as these. And thou, Hope, fair child of 
Heaven, comforter of the afflicted, friend of those who suffer, 



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companion of the exile, helper of the weak, comfort of the dying, 
guardian of the grave, do not forsake us. Be thou the light of our 
eyes, the leader of our steps, the guide of our actions, the desire 
of our hearts, and so sustain them through their earthly trials 
that we may hereafter merit the exceeding great reward that God 
has prepared for those that love Him in the land of rest. 

My brethren, in the Vatican there is a picture which excites 
the admiration and wonder of all who look upon it, and I will 
tell you which it is. It is The Transfiguration, by Baffaello da 
Urbino. And this picture has supplied me with the practical 
application for the subject of my sermon. Listen ! The lower 
part of the picture represents the miraculous healing of the 
lunatic. You see the boy possessed of the devil. The Father of 
the boy is holding him in the midst of his convulsions. The 
child is agitated by the evil spirit. The violent convulsion of his 
lips, the horrible contortion of his eyes, give him a terrible appear- 
ance. In a corner of the picture there kneels a woman showing 
every sign of horror, despair, and grief. In the distance some of 
the disciples of Jesus Christ gaze helplessly on the terrible 
spectacle. The crowd, assembled in various groups, have plainly 
no intention of giving any assistance. This is a true, a real 
picture of life. What does it say to us? That scene is a scene 
of comfortless grief: an unassisted misery. And what is our 
life but a tangled skein of hopeless suffering and comfortless 
despair ? You notice that Jesus Christ is not present on the 
scene : He is on Mount Tabor ; and no one is thinking of Him, 
except, perhaps, one man who, with outstretched hand, points 
towards the mountain, as if to say: " Surely there is God 
Almighty, All-merciful. Call on Him, pray to Him, and He will 
deliver you from this misfortune by healing the child." But no 
one heeds this man. Well, is not this what happens in life ? 
Who is there — tell me, who is there here below who thinks of 
Heaven, who acknowledges its existence, who speaks of it ? And 
if the priest sees his people in sorrow and suffering, and tells them 
that their sufferings are but the path God has chosen by which to 
lead them to Heaven, how are His words received? Now we 



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121 



come to the last part of the picture, which I am anxious that you 
should not overlook. The Lord Jesus is not present, but there is 
someone else present — a tyrant, a great unseen power. And who 
is this tyrant ? what is this unseen power. The same as that 
which has possessed the boy and mastered him : the power of the 
devil. And will it be any exaggeration on my part, my brethren, 
if I say that this is what happens to us in life ? Answer 
me frankly: What is it that reigns in the world when the 
hope of Heaven is banished from it ? What is to be found 
in the soul when sorrow comes, if she is deprived of all hope of 
Paradise ? The answer is : A demon : the most terrible demon 
of all — Despair, whose only suggestion is suicide. This is why, 
my dear brethren, suicide, which at one time was hardly known 
in our country, now increases in a most alarming manner. This 
is the cause of the desolation which has blasted the family hearth, 
which has shaken the foundations of Society. If you rob the sad 
and suffering of their hope of Heaven, despair must be the con- 
sequence. And great, indeed, is the crime of those who have 
robbed their country and their homes of this comforting hope, 
and theirs is the awful responsibility of suicide. Would you fly 
from the demon of despair ? Would you seek comfort in your 
sorrows, in your trials ? Then rekindle the hope of Heaven, 
which, of God's mercy, is always open to you. When you have 
lost all that you possessed, all that is most dear to you, all those 
you hold most dear : when you feel utterly alone and exiled in this 
wide world of ours, without a friendly voice to cheer you, or a kind 
glance to help you : then remember that Heaven is above you, that 
God is ever ready to listen to your voice, that His holy angels are 
ever ready to minister to you, as they ministered to the Lord Jesus 
in His agony in the Garden of Gethsemane. They will call to 
your remembrance the Divine saying : " The servant is not better 
than his lord " ; and that it was the Lord Jesus Who said : 
I Blessed are the poor, blessed are those that weep, blessed are 
the persecuted, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.' ' Once 
again, my brethren, be of good courage. This life is but a short 
pilgrimage, and we shall soon reach its goal, and enter the 



122 



Sermon 11* 



Heavenly mansions which have been prepared for us. This is no 
delusive hope. Courage ! my brothers, you are not alone in your 
sorrow ; other tears than yours will be one day wiped away by 
the hand of God. Courage ! the path of sorrow is the only one 
which leads to Paradise. Drink eagerly of the cup of sorrow, 
and let no word of blasphemy escape your lips. I feel for you 
deeply : I pity from my heart your privations, your sorrows, your 
sufferings ; but remember that all is transitory — life is but the 
span of a day, and that the time is fast approaching when the exile 
will forget his wanderings in the joys of home. Look up, my 
brethren, to Heaven, and do not say in a moment of despair : 
" Heaven is beautiful ; but it is not for me " ; but rather say : 
" Heaven is beautiful, and it is for me." 



Sermon \2. 



123 



xrc 

THE OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY. 

My Brethren, — There is a question which presents itself to us 
to-day, not as a problem more or less interesting, but as an 
impending danger which must be grappled with and overcome. 
And this is the great social question. Where does this come 
from, my brethren ? What is the cause of it ? What is the 
•cause of the accumulated discontent and hatred which has long 
been fermenting in the heart of the people who call themselves 
the working classes ? Many are the causes. This discontent 
and hatred might be traced to various causes ; but I will confine 
myself to pointing out some of the principal reasons. The first 
is excess of work, which finds relaxation in unlawful and harmful 
pleasures ; then we have prodigality and waste ; and, finally, a 
recognised Materialism, both theoretical and practical, which has 
invaded every corner of life. Here, then, you find the causes of 
social discontent, for each and all have power to brutalise the 
mind, sear the conscience, and fill the heart with bitterness, and 
utterly spoil our nature. Such are some of the causes which have 
produced the present condition of things. Now, where are we to 
find the remedies ? My brethren, many persons who have been 
deceived as to the true cause of the evil, find fault with either 
political institutions or with those who are described as the 
privileged classes ; and the remedies suggested by these persons 
are to destroy these institutions, and to do away with the 
privileged classes. But this is a mistake. The true remedy, 
my brethren, is to be found in the observance of those Divine 
laws which, even from the beginiung of creation, have established 
the order of human existence ; and, above all, the observance of 
that fundamental law which is called the observance of Sunday. 
I do not say that the observance Df Sunday will act as a kind of 
charm sufficiently powerful to diminish the effort of labour, to 



124 



Sermon 12. 



enlighten the mind, to purify and soften the heart ; but at least 
it will open the door to a moral and religious influence — a spirit 
of harmony, sympathy, liberty, and brotherly kindness, which 
may yet prove the salvation of the people. When the Sunday is 
not observed, this safety-valve is closed, and those who neglect 
the observance of Sunday are responsible for the discontent of 
the present, and for the storms of the future. Let us see how 
Sunday is observed. Man, who so eagerly seeks relaxation from 
work, refuses the relaxation when it comes to him from God : he 
is so determined in his rebellion against duty, that he will not 
accept it, even when it is presented to him in the form of 
pleasure. We cannot but be aware, indeed, how grievous is the 
general profanation of Sunday. By common consent, this day 
of prayer has been turned into one of mere pleasure- seeking and 
debauchery. Out of all the days of the week He so freely 
bestowed upon man, God only reserved this one for Himself, and 
man grudges Him one day out of those spent on his own interest 
and pleasure to the service of God. And, alas ! of all the days 
of the week, Sunday, which is the holiest, is the most profaned. 
I wish to show you this morning how the observance of Sunday 
is not only ordained by God, but that it is for the interests of the 
individual, the family, and Society at large, so to observe it ; and 
that not only because Sunday is the day dedicated to the Lord — 
and to persevere in rebelling against the observance of it is to 
rebel against God — but because the neglect to do so will be 
fruitful in evil results to ourselves, our families, and our country. 

My brethren, what is the Lord's Day ? The word in itself 
explains it : it is the day consecrated to the Lord. Of course, 
all days belong to God. He holds in His hands the past days, 
and those which are to come : all are His — He is absolute Master 
of them. He, in His goodness, in His mercy, has granted us six 
days which we can employ for the good of our bodies ; one only 
He has reserved for Himself, and of this one not even all — some 
hours only, allowing us to use the remainder for the rest and 
recreation of our bodies. In the vast scale of time, ever since 
the beginning, God has fixed certain intervals sacred to rest and 



Ube Observance of Sun&as. 125 



prayer, and these are His special hours. This institution dates 
from the very origin and cradle of the world. When God had 
divided the earth from the waters, when He had stretched out 
the Heavens like a curtain, spangled the firmament with stars ; 
when He had created man and placed in his hand the sceptre of 
command ; when the sun had risen for the sixth time, and the 
evening and the morning had completed the sixth day, then the 
Holy Bible tells us that God, on the seventh day, rested from all 
His work that He had made, and sanctified it. Behold the origin 
of the day of rest ! From that moment the course of time was 
fixed, and the days succeeded each other in that mysterious circle 
which God had ordained. Therefore Moses said, turning to the 
people, " Remember that thou keep holy the Sabbath day " ; in 
order to show that he was not giving them a new commandment, 
but recalling to their mind one which already existed, and added 
the sanction of a written law to the precept which had come clown 
to them from tradition. 

Jesus, having come into the world, confirmed this law : He, by 
His Church, transferred the day of rest from the last to the first 
day of the week. This He did to mark the passage from the 
ancient to the new dispensation ; and this Act of His rendered 
more sacred the consecration of a day to the service of God. 
Sunday is, then, in every sense of the word, the Lord's Day, for 
in it are gathered into one the great records both of nature and 
grace, and it remains a perpetual witness both of the miraculous 
creation and redemption of the world. On Sunday God began 
the creation of the world, pronouncing the words : Fiat lux (" Let 
there be light "). On Sunday Jesus Christ, the Sun of Righteous-' 
ness, rose from the sepulchre in all the splendour of His Majesty ; 
and on Sunday the Holy Ghost * descended upon the Apostles, 

* The Bishop of Lincoln expressed the same great truth in his hymn for Sunday : 
" On thee, at the Creation, 

The light first had its birth ; 
On thee, for our salvation, 

Christ rose from depths of earth ; 
On thee, our Lord victorious, 
T* x ' The Spirit sent from Heaven, 

And thus on thee, most glorious, 
A triple light was given." 



12G 



Sermon \2. 



inspiring them with zeal, and touching their lips with fire, that 
they might preach the Divine law to the world. 6 6 Glory be to 
the Sunday ! " exclaims St. John of Chrysostom. This day has 
reconciled the creature to the Creator, for on this day God, Who 
had seemed to have withdrawn from the world after the Fall of 
our first parents, began to diffuse His Kingdom in all spirits, in 
all hearts. How is the Sunday observed now ? The carpenter's 
plane is heard, as well as the smith's hammer, and the needle of 
the tailor and the cobbler plies its wonted trade, whilst a cry, " I 
will not observe it," seems to rise from the heart of the city to 
the surrounding country — from the valley to the hill tops, across 
the ocean from the Old to the New World. The rich man teaches 
it to the poor ; the employer reiterates the lesson to the working- 
man. But, my brethren, I raise a protest against this desecra- 
tion, in the name of our reason, in the name of our heart. Does 
not our reason tell us that it is our first duty to consecrate to 
God part of the time we have received at His hands ? Is it not 
Eeason herself who tells us that it is but strict justice that out of 
the long chain of days which, by God's ordinance, constitute time, 
a few should be set apart for prayer ? The Gentiles even had 
their appointed festivals, and such was the universal custom, not 
only with the civilised nations, such as the Eomans and the 
Athenians, but even with the barbarians. Above all, I make my 
protest in the name of our heart ! God gives a great deal, and 
asks very little in return. He grants us six days to accomplish 
our work, which He vouchsafes to bless. His Providence watches 
over us during these days, and He only asks for one day for Him- 
self. Even if He had not asked for it, could we have done less 
than offer it to Him of our own accord ? If we acknowledge that 
gratitude is due to an earthly father, how much more gratitude, 
then, is due to God, the Father of all mercies ! We acknowledge 
God to be both our Creator and our Preserver, and yet we grudge 
Him one day in the week in which to render Him thanks and 
praise. What can be more ungrateful, more perverse ? And 
when, more than this, we know that it was God Himself who 
appointed this day to be kept holy, are we not guilty of sacrilege 



Ube Observance of 5un&a£* 



127 



in violating its sanctity ? If anyone invades your property, you 
call liim a thief, and you exclaim : " Eespect private property ! ** 
You are right ; the invasion of the rights of private property means 
the destruction of all social welfare. But if the claim of man to< 
his property is to be respected, how much more should we respect 
that which appertains to God ! Sunday belongs to God, and is 
not His property as inviolable as that which belongs to man ? If 
you respect the property of the Almighty, you will respect also 
the property of your fellow creatures. But, my brethren, let me 
warn you : if the rights of God are violated, your own rights will 
in turn be violated — your homes, your lands, your property, 
because God is the guardian of all rights ; and when He no longer 
protects them, it is in vain that you invoke the protection of the 
! law, the government, or the sword. It is well that you should 
respect the rights of man, but above all it is imperative to respect 
the rights of God. But there is another reason : Sunday not 
only belongs to God, but it was so appointed to react upon the 
welfare of mankind. In creating man, God gave Him a body and 
soul, uniting these together by such a close tie, that if the soul 
has no rest the body wears itself out ; and if the body does not 
rest, there can be no peace for the soul. In appointing one day 
of rest to be sanctified by prayer, God has provided us, of His 
infinite mercy, with rest for the body ; and this lest has been 
meted out in exact proportion to our strength by the Hand which 
has moulded together this our mortal clay ; and it has been or- 
dained by our Creator that this day of rest shall recur every six 
days in our lives. The night's rest has been granted to us to 
repair the fatigues of the day ; the rest of Sunday has been 
granted to us to restore still more abundantly our strength con- 
sumed by the labour of the week. Man fulfils the intention of 
the Almighty when he calls this day a day of recreation, for it is " a 
new creation," it having pleased God to make the day of rest the 
pivot upon which our whole existence turns. This benefit is not 
felt or appreciated by those who are not compelled to earn their 
bread in the sweat of their brow; but ask the agricultural 
labourer who has been hard at work all the week : ask the 



128 



Sermon \2. 



artizan who lias applied himself to hard mechanical labour for !j 
six days, and you will perceive that, putting aside the religious 
idea, Sunday is a providential institution ; and, if it did not exist, 
it would be necessary to establish it. Science also testifies that 
where Sunday is not observed, there is a far greater prevalence of 
diseases and premature deaths. But, after all, what is it that 
constitutes man the lord of all creation ? It is his soul : our 
soul, by which we were created in the image of God, and through 
which we may attain to a position only one degree lower than the 
hierarchy of the angels : our soul, the image of God, redeemed by 
His Blood. Here is our patent of nobility ; but without our soul 
we must degenerate into the condition of the brute. Well, I ask 
you, my brethren, is our soul, which has been gifted with such 
noble faculties : our soul with its lofty privilege ; our soul, 
the living image of the Divinity, and the breath of God : is our 
soul to be deprived of its lawful day of rest ! What ! shall 
there be six days for the body, six days for our worldly 
interests, six days during which our thoughts are chained to 
earth, and not one, by means of prayer and sacrament, in 
which the soul can lift itself up to Heaven ! My brethren, we 
could have no hope of escaping from the entanglements of our 
passions and our earthly cares if this holiday did not corne to 
rescue our thoughts and divert them from those propensities to 
which our miserable flesh is heir. Were it not for this, man 
would sink into a condition at once so abject, so brutal, so 
degraded, that he would be incapable of a single noble thought. 
But God has willed far otherwise. Under the Old Dispensation 
He said : " Eemember that thou keep holy the Sabbath Day." 
Now it is in tenderness that He urges us to have pity on the 
soul which so easily forgets the sacred truths, which are of such 
vital importance to us — truths which are for the soul what bread 
is for the body. Do we not see how the soul languishes when it 
has forgotten the sacred dogmas of Christianity and its own 
immortal destiny? Do we not see that the soul, grieved and 
wearied, and oftentimes weighed down by sorrow, has need of 
peace? Where should a child find rest if not in his father's 



Uhc ©bsemmce of Sun&ag* 



129 



house ? And where should the soul rest if not in the temple of 
her Lord ? Poor exile ! a wanderer from the path which would 
lead back to Heaven, it has need of a hand to guide its footsteps 
to the right. path. When is that hand stretched out for deliver- 
ance, if not on the day of the Lord ? And, for yourselves, do 
you not feel the need of this day when you can escape from the 
noise of the world into the solititude of your own hearts, and in 
the stillness of your chamber you can attend to what the Lord 
Jesus Christ has told us is the " better part," upon which our 
whole future happiness depends ? And, my brethren, what are 
the acceptable days of salvation if not the holy days ? When 
will the man of business remember God ? When will the con- 
viction that these riches are but dross, and that he must treasure 
up other riches in Heaven, be most present to his mind. Will 
this conviction, perhaps, force itself upon him in the tumult of 
business, whilst he is adding up the accounts which engross him 
day and night ? When will the rich pleasure-seeker be most 
likely to think of the short-sighted folly of his conduct ? Perhaps 
at the theatre, or at any other of the various places of amusement 
he frequents ? And for the poor, when are they likely to think 
of the duties of their soul ? Perhaps when they are toiling ill 
the sweat of their brow, in the dust and turmoil of their daily 
work. Tell me, my poorer brethren, if someone came to speak 
to you then of God, of the soul, of eternity, of paradise, would he 
not be received by you as Moses was received when he went to 
visit the Jews in bondage in Egypt, and in your turn you would 
answer : " Why do you torment us ? We have other things to 
think of than the Promised Land ! Do you not see that we are 
toiling in the sweat of our brow ? Do you not see the labour 
which oppresses us ? " Who does not feel the need of an 
appointed day in which to remember that God is our Master, 
and that we must serve Him : that God has given us an immortal 
soul, of whose Salvation we must take account. The pilgrim 
who crosses the desert feels that he has not the strength to reach 
the end of his journey if he does not find an oasis wherein he can 
rest his head, a spring where he can quench his thirst ; and we, 
s 



Sermon 12. 



in our pilgrimage through life, shall we not feel the want of 
resting a little on our way under the shadow of the Cross of 
Christ ? When we ascend a steep mountain we find it pleasant 
to stop a moment and look back upon that path we have already 
traversed, and consider that which lies before us, and which will, 
we hope, lead us to the mountain top. And shall we not also 
deem it pleasant to rest awhile on life's journey, reflect on our 
past errors, and see how Ave can amend our lives in the future ? 
You say it is a good thing to take a quiet moment in which to 
make up your accounts, to reckon up your gains and your losses. 
Is it not, then, also a good thing to reckon up the account of 
your past life, and lay it before your Heavenly Father, promising 
Him to make amends for your faults in the future, which may 
still be granted to you ? The young soldier, though he may be 
inured to the hardships and dangers of war, may yet be so 
severely wounded that he is compelled to withdraw from the 
field. And shall not we sometimes during the battle of life seek 
a refuge in the arms of God's mercy, and ask the Great Physician 
to heal the sin and sorrow of our wounded heart. 

The holy day is, indeed, the day of resurrection for the 
Christian ; for it is on this day, my brethren, that man is born 
again to the beautiful light of the truth, the only light which can 
enlighten his life. It is on this day that man strengthens him- 
self in his faith by means of the prayers and sacraments of the 
Holy Church : it is on this day that his soul is free to lift itself 
towards Heaven, towards God. Yes, indeed, by means of the Holy 
Communion, ordained by Christ, by prayer and thanksgiving, 
holy chant and Psalm : yes, my brethren, like the mysterious 
ladder, like that which Jacob saw in his sleep — what are these 
but the steps of the ladder by which the soul ascends to Heaven ? 
So only can we gain a true idea of the shortness of time as 
contrasted with eternity, to think of the inheritance laid up for 
us in Heaven, and to long for it with all our heart and soul. 
; And as we consider the few days of this short life which remain 
to us, we find that, when viewed by this light, they .no longer 
^appear to us mil isadness, but, filled with many a promise of 



Zfte Observance of 5unt>a£* ibi 

consolation, a kind of foretaste of the perfect joy awaiting us 
hereafter. We must fulfil our appointed task with patience and 
resignation. However, Sunday is not only the Lord's Day, it is 
not only the day of rest for mankind at large : it is also the day 
especially consecrated to the joys of family life and home. With 
what fond utterance do we pronounce these names ! how lovingly 
we cherish them in the depths of our heart ! The family — that 
is to say, the father and mother, the brothers and sisters, all that 
we love best upon earth — would you make your home a sanctuary 
of respect, of obedience, and love ? Would you desire to make it 
the source of the purest joy, the liveliest emotions, the most 
tender affection ? Then sanctify God's holy day Let us con- 
sider what are the necessary elements of family lite : the constant 
practice of the duties which belong to the relationships of family 
life and the unity of its members. Observe the Sunday, and you 
will have both one and the other ; neglect the observance of the 
Sunday, and you will have neither. If you neglect Sunday, you 
put yourself, in the first place, out of reach of those instructions 
which remind us of our mutual obligations. Oh ! Christian 
fathers, you no longer come to Church ; but you forget that it is 
from God you derive your paternal authority ; that it is God's 
authority which sanctions your own ; and that, if you strive to 
reign without God, you will reap the consequences in the scorn 
and disobedience of your family. Your rebellious children will 
resist that which they will dare call by the name of paternal tyranny. 
No longer master in your dominion, the sceptre of power will 
depart from your hands, and you yourself may become an outcast 
from your own hearth, and perchance find yourself forced to beg 
your bread in the streets. Christian fathers, you no longer 
accompany your wife to church, and your example teaches the 
poor woman to betray her faith. Deprived of the guidance of 
the Church, will she be likely to remember that she ought to be 
an angel of purity, of fidelity, and of self-denial in her home ? 
These things, alas ! are forgotten too easily, and what will be the 
result in your family if your wife, the mother of your children, 
no longer remembers them ? Christian fathers, you no longer 



132 



Sermon 12* 



take your children to church : you say to yourselves : 4 4 My chil- 
dren love me, they will obey me ; if they do not obey me, I know 
how to make them do so." Yes, your children love you,- and they 
will obey you, so long as they have .not any strong or terrible 
passion to fight against ; but when that day comes in which some 
such fierce struggle overtakes them, will you, then, be able to 
trust to submission on their part ? " But I will make them fear 
me." This is foolish : this is unreasonable. Fear in families 
may serve for a time, but the reaction from it is terrible. Such 
fathers of families who cannot look to God for help, seeing that 
the sceptre of power is on the point of slipping from their hands, 
will make a prison of the home, which ought to be a sanctuary of 
peace and love. Alas ! the day comes when old age supervenes. 
Then the doors of the prison are burst open, the chains are torn 
asunder, and what is the result ? Hardly eighteen years old, the 
son's heart will beat with tumultuous passion, and the voice of 
the devil will seem to whisper in his ear : 44 Live, grow up, and do 
as thy father has done ; forsake him as he has forsaken God." 
Fall down, then, on your knees, oh ! Christian fathers, before 
God I Eespect Him, if you wish to be respected ; this is the law, 
obey it, if you wish to be obeyed. In fact, the precept of honouring 
our father and mother follows immediately upon that of keeping 
holy the Sabbath Day ; and when the father and mother do not 
keep holy the Sabbath Day, how can they have the the courage 
to say to their children : 4 4 Eespect and honour me " ? I will tell 
you what I know to be a true story. One day a boy who had been 
confirmed, and had made his first Communion, was met by his 
father on his way out, with a book in his hand. His father said 
to him : 44 Where are you going ? " 44 1 am going to Church." 
44 Church ! That is for your mother and sisters ; you must come 
and work with me." The child bent his head in prayer, and 
when he raised it there was a tear in his eye, as he answered : 
44 But, father, is the precept to keep holy the Sabbath Day only 
for my mother and sisters ? " <4 Nonsense ! " 44 Nonsense ? Is 
it, then, nonsense also to honour thy father and mother? " The 
father was struck by the answer : he did not prevent the boy from 



Uhc Observance of Snn&ag* 



133 



going to church, and a few weeks afterwards he was seen following 
his son there himself. Do you do the same, my brethren : take 
your children to church ? Once there, it will be our part to 
remind them, in God's Name, of the love and respect they owe to 
you. . Then paternal authority will be confirmed, and we shall no 
longer see fathers and mothers grieving over their children's 
desertion of them ; the love of their children will follow them to 
the grave — ay, and beyond that. 

Besides confirming paternal authority, . the observance of 
Sunday binds closer those links w T hich unite together the members 
of the family. On the ordinary week-day the father rises early, 
and goes to his work ; his wife remains at home ; the children 
either go to school or to their trade ; meals are hastily taken, 
sometimes separately ; they only meet in the evening, when the 
fatigue of the day's work silences every feeling, except that of 
the longed-for rest. Therefore the home, if the Sunday is not 
observed, becomes more or less an inn where each one comes to 
eat, drink, or sleep, hardly knowing or caring for one another. 
On the other hand where the Sunday is observed, it brings with 
it a blessed change. On that day a man feels that he belongs to 
his family, to his old father and mother, to his w T ife and children : 
above all, to his little ones ; for on this day he feels his father- 
hood more intensely that on any other day, for he feels that his 
festival is also the festival of God. The mother is at pains to 
cleanse every trace of work from her child's face : she dresses him 
in his Sunday clothes, and goes with her husband to church, then 
for a walk, and thus enjoys the society of those she loves, and 
whom she has hardly seen all the week. 

But Sunday is not only kept holy to God : it is not only 
sanctified to man in the sacred ties of life : it should also sanctify 
Society. What does Society need, my brethren ? Bespect, love, 
and obedience, and, without these three things, which the 
observance of the Sunday will give you, you will have no Society. 
In the first place respect for Society is necessary, for how can 
Society exist without it ? Well, the observance of Sunday lays the 
foundation of all respect, for he who sincerely respects God will 



134 



Sermon 12. 



respect his fellow creatures. And how can he respect his fellow 
creatures if he has no respect for God ? It is for this reason that, 
when the people keep aloof from the church, from the sanctification 
of Sunday, they implicitly despise all they formerly loved. Contempt 
is like jealousy : It has for its aim the destruction of all that is most 
worthy of regard. Hence the danger for Society, from which no 
force of arms can protect it. Contempt is not to be opposed by 
arms or armies : it is mightier than either, more deadly in its 
effect ; for it aims at the destruction not only of the body, but of 
the soul. In the second place, there is obedience. Can Society 
exist without obedience to recognised authority ? There is 
nothing more likely to inculcate obedience than the observance of 
Sunday, for it is on Sunday that the people go to church to give 
homage to the King of kings. But when the people do not go to 
church, and neglect the observance of the Sunday, they naturally 
go on to say : " Why should we obey men if we need not obey 
God ? " For it is not to be forgotten that when God's authority 
is neglected, then man's authority is unheeded and trampled 
upon. Finally, the well-being of Society depends upon love. 
Indeed, how can Society exist without love ? Sunday is the 
great school of love, not only because it gathers together and 
unites men who would otherwise never meet each other, but 
because it invites them to enter the temple, which is the great 
school of love, because it unites all Christians in the bond of 
love. In the church everything tends to love and unity : all 
alike can meet therein and partake of the Holy Communion. 
Outside the church everything tends to separate us : poverty, 
riches, sorrow, misfortune, all tend to keep us apart ; and thus 
we go on our way with divided interests, and, if we meet, it is 
only to take up arms one against the other. Look at the men 
outside the Church ! What do you see ? On one side a set of 
egotists who would sacrifice the interests of entire nations to 
their own private interests ; on the other side, envyings, jealousies, 
and hatred, which would not stop short of murder and fratricide 
in the unrestrained and eager pursuit of their selfish pleasures. 
In short, on every side hatred lurks concealed, but ready at the 



XTbe Observance of Sun&as. 



135 



first opportunity to burst forth to the ruin and destruction of all 
social interests. And then, when the cry of rebellion is raised, 
you will see the people who have been deprived of their church, 
of their services of their Saviour and their God — then you will 
see them rush out of their factories and their workshops, and, 
casting to the winds all restraint, will run madly they know not 
where, clamouring for they know not what, unless it be the 
universal destruction of every existing institution. This is the* 
picture of mankind when, having set at naught the Divine pre- 
cept to keep the Sunday holy, they have learnt instead the lessons 
of contempt, hatred, and rebellion, which have their fruit in 
anarchy and civil war. 

My brethren, what is it that is offered to the people by those* 
who propose to deprive them of Sunday ? Ask the poor people 
whom you have robbed of their moral and spiritual welfare, and 
they will answer you that material advantages are offered to 
them ; but do the poor people get even that ? No doubt material 
advantage is the lowest order of happiness ; but since this is the 
kind of happiness which is so much sought after in the present 
day, allow me to tell you that the only way to procure this 
material advantage for the people is by means of religion and the 
observance of the Sunday. But, you will say, this is an absurdity 
and a paradox. Let us see if it is a paradox and an absurdity. 
How do you mean to promote the material welfare of the people ? 
By the diminishing, you will say, of their hard labour : by in- 
creasing the possibilities of mental culture. Well, religion, by 
the enjoined rest of Sunday, sets aside one day in every seven 
out of a life of labour for the purpose of devoting it to rest for the 
body and mind. What further do you want for the material 
welfare of the people ? An increase of wages ? an increase of 
profits ? Well, religion, which enjoins the rest of Sunday, gives 
you both one and the other. First of all, it augments the wages, 
for you know that work has a rateable value, which must decrease 
if the supply is greater than the demand. Thus the effect 
of a day of rest, by diminishing work, must be to augment 
its value, and to enable the working man to earn in six 



186 



Sermon 12. 



gfcys enough to maintain himself for seven clays. It augments 
Ms profits also in another way, since the enforced rest will 
enable him to work much better than when he is exhausted 
and overdone by ceaseless labour. There is yet something more 
wanted for the material welfare of the people, which is forced 
upon our attention in every paper : we desire an increase of capital, 
because this will be beneficial to the people. But, my dear 
brethren, mere mechanical work is not in itself sufficient to produce 
an increase of capital. It is the culture of the intellectual faculties 
which is to produce this result ; and religion, with the injunction 
as to the day of rest, gives the people one whole day in which to 
cultivate the mind. Perhaps you think the material welfare of 
the people would be furthered by giving them increased liberty, 
and by decreasing their servitude ? Well, religion, with the 
injunction as to the observance of Sunday, is in favour of this, 
because it ordains one day's reprieve from the people's service 
and labour. On this day the people are freed from the yoke of 
man, and have only to bear the easy yoke of Christ. The 
working man may be a servant every other day of the week, but on 
Sunday he is raised to an equality with his master, with whom 
he is united in the same act of worship, in the presence of the 
Lord of all. Lastly, you wish to promote the material welfare of 
the people by rescuing them from the egotistical tyranny of the 
capitalist. Well, religion lifts up her voice in behalf of the 
working man : she wipes the dust from his toil- stained brow, and 
she says to his employer : " This man is not a working machine, 
made merely to enrich other men ; he is not an instrument of 
production ; this man is a creature made to glorify God ; he is 
thy brother, redeemed by the Blood of Christ Himself. If you 
impose on this man a labour which transgresses the law of God, 
and invades the privilege of His day of rest, remember, that there 
are thunderbolts in Heaven, reserved by a God, Who is the God 
of justice, for those who transgress His laws, and trample upon 
the rights of His children." We may find, then, that there is 
contained in this one simple ordinance of religion all that ig 
needed for the welfare of the people ; and you will have seen, my 



Uhc ©bservance ot SunSas. 



187 



brethren, that those who call themselves the people's friends, 
after they have induced them to transgress the law of God, after 
they have robbed them alike of virtue and enjoyment, and even of 
their health, then promise them a material welfare, which they 
do not give, but which, when analysed, is found to result in 
nothing but perpetual servitude and decreased wages, while it 
ends by leaving the working man entirely at the mercy of the 
capitalist. " This is not true," I hear someone answer : " What 
we want is the liberty of the people, the liberty of the working- 
man.' 7 What a mockery! The liberty of ceaseless labour! 
Liberty which is compelled to choose between servitude and 
destitution : Liberty for the capitalist, that he may bid the poor 
man choose between apostacy to his God and his own destitution ! 
But, it may be said, the working man is free not to work if he 
does not wish it. Yes, he is free ; but that means that he is also 
free to die of hunger. You say you compel no one ; but in the 
meanwhile your language to the working man is : ' ' If you do not 
work on Sunday I will find someone else who will." You rivet 
them by the chain of necessity, and then you tell them they are 
free ! What a mockery ! " But we pay them." You pay them ! 
And are these things to be bought ? It is time to make an end 
of this arrogance of wealth. You may possess all the wealth of 
the universe, but it will not suffice to pay for the soul of one 
working man. It is the fashion now to speak of man's dignity. 
We know that man's highest dignity consists in a nice sense of 
honour, in an enlightened conscience, and that when man is 
destitute of these two things, he ceases to be a man, and becomes 
a mere machine. Well, in the present day you think you can 
purchase the conscience of the working man in the face of God's 
law ; but soon it will be no longer yours to purchase. The 
sword which the poor man handles to-day, will to-morrow be 
turned against yourself. In this way the nation will become 
mercenary ; but the fault will not lie with the people, for 
remember, there is always one person more abject and vile than 
he who sells his conscience, and that is the person who buys it. 
But some will say : " Labour is a necessary evil." This may be 



138 



Setmon 12 



true : I agree to it ; but this is exceptional labour. The necessity 
of labour is an old excuse, my brethren ; but it was never 
intended to weigh, labour in an equal scale with human life. 
Labour is made for man, not man for labour. Labour and 
industry are beautiful things : by means of them the poor working 
man makes his living ; but do not let us force him to do so on the 
Sunday. If you knew how much it costs the people to work on 
the Sunday. They are sad, sullen : they look upon themselves 
as exiles ; and for this reason nurse their grievances with terrible 
vindictiveness. And who is the cause of all this ? Who is to be 
called to account for this social discontent? Who is to be 
responsible for the storms which are gathering? Think of it 
well, and try, while there is yet time, to repair the evil. 

And here I would bring my sermon to a close, but I wish to 
speak a word to the working-man, for there are some working- 
men who labour even when they are not obliged to do so. Poor 
man, why do you not rest on Sundays ? " Padre, it is my trade. 
It is the custom to do so." And is custom more imperative than 
the law of God ? " But if I do not work on Sunday, I lose my 
employers. " Your employers, then, are of greater consequence 
to you than God ? But listen, my poor friend : you will not lose 
your employer, because religion is the greatest guarantee of. 
honesty, and those who have had experience know that the man who 
does not cheat God will not cheat his fellow creature, and there- 
fore, in choosing, he will not hesitate to give the preference to 
the pious and well-conducted working man, instead of to one who 
has no religion, and whose honesty is due to no other motive 
than either fear of the police or love of his own reputation. You 
will have seen many families ruined by vices and excesses ; but 
have you ever seen any single one ruined by having kept holy the 
Sabbath Day? "One must live on Sunday as well as on the 
weekday." It is for this reason that rest is necessary to the 
body, and science has proved that there are far more diseases and 
premature deaths where the Sunday is not observed. " One 
must eat on Sunday." You have not said all : one drinks on 
Sunday also, and this is far more expensive. We are not sent 



XTbe ©bservance of Sun&as. 189 



into the world to think only of our bodily sustenance : we must 
consider our soul's welfare also. " But if I do not work, religion 
will not procure bread for myself, my wife, and my children." 
My son, it is not religion which eats up your wife's and your 
children's bread : the money is squandered in other places, and 
this you know. Does the family of the working man who respects 
the Sunday ever die of hunger ? It has been observed, on the 
contrary, that they who respect this day live with less privations 
than others. " If I work, I can put something by." My brother, 
we are speaking of God. You may have a bad son, work may 
fail, illness may come, and then what will happen to that money 
which you have earned at the cost of your conscience ? But 
supposing you are spared, however, all these misfortunes. For 
all you can tell, you may to-morrow He stretched on your death- 
bed. What will that money, gained in transgressing the laws of 
God, avail you then ? Only to make your agony more terrible. 
Therefore, my poorer brethren, if you have gone away from Jesus, 
return to Him. He knows your wants, better than you do your- 
self, because He also has been poor like yourself. He is the 
comfort and support of those who suffer and are sad. Come back 
to the Cross, come back to Jesus. Go to Him, for He has never 
deceived the people. One day a working man was surrounded by 
his companions, who were speaking of the "working man's 
friend." " I know him/' this man said : "I know the true 
Friend of the people. I always carry Him here." And he 
struck his breast. All the other men thought that he meant 
that he carried about him the portrait of some distinguished 
leader of the people, instead of which the man drew out the 
image "of Jesus Christ. " Here is one," he said, " Who has 
ever loved the people, and Who has never betrayed them." Yes, 
my brethren, He has never betrayed anyone, and you especially, 
poor working man, trust to Him. He loves you, and, after 
having supported you through all the troubles and trials of this 
life, He will grant you an eternal recompense in the life to 
come. 



HO 



Sermon 13* 



XIII 

LIBERTY. 

My Brethren, — There is a word which seems to have exercised 
in all times a complete fascination over mankind. It has become 
the watchword of our day — a word which is in itself of sufficient 
power to overthrow every principle of moral and social order. 
This word is " Liberty." It sums up the history of the Grecian 
States : it was the first cry of the Roman Republic, and up to the 
present day the war-cry of rebellion is " Long live Liberty ! " 
And yet it is strange, my brethren, the Grecian Republics, the 
Roman Republic, our modern specimens of the same form of 
government, instead of exhibiting the fair prospect of liberty, only 
present, for the most part, the sad and distressing spectacle of 
license and tyranny. What is the cause of this strange con- 
tradiction between the word and the deed ? It proceeds from this. 
True liberty is in reality unknown upon earth. The inscription 
" To the unknown God " would not have been out of place upon 
the many Altars which have been raised to Liberty by her 
ignorant votaries. Of Heavenly origin, Liberty has ever been a 
stranger upon earth. Misunderstood and misapplied, her name 
ever taken in vain, she has long since resigned herself to remain 
an impenetrable mystery to mankind. Why should there be this 
mystery about liberty ? It arises, in the first place, from the fire 
of enthusiasm which this single word has power to kindle in our 
souls, producing an effect upon us which can only be described as 
frenzied. The mere sound of the word is sufficient to throw a 
man into such a state of agitation — I might almost say, mental 
intoxication — that it is no longer possible for him to face the 
subject calmly. Liberty becomes the embodiment of his dearest 
hopes, his most ardent aspirations, and her real nature is lost 
sight of altogether. It would be better if men could accustom 
themselves to contemplate Liberty with a more dispassionate 



141 



gaze — if they could bear to contain themselves in her presence. 
In the second place, the mystery which surrounds liberty may bo 
traced to man's ignorance of the elements which constitute the 
essential good ; for of these liberty is one, and directly tends to- 
wards good, just as slavery directly tends towards evil. It was 
Jesus Christ Who said : Whosoever committeth sin is the 
servant of sin." 

I should like to say something to you this morning which will 
make the true nature of liberty plain to you. I will endeavour 
to make myself understood by all, as I examine one by one the 
various kinds of liberty which are extolled in the present day — 
viz., the Liberty of Thought, the Liberty of Conscience, the 
Liberty of Worship, the Liberty of Speech, and the Liberty of 
Action. The field, you see, is indeed a wide one ; but I shall 
only say that which is necessary in order to undeceive some 
would-be votaries of liberty, and to put others on their guard. I 
shall count upon your courteous attention to sustain me in a very 
difficult and delicate task. 

My brethren, what is liberty ? It is generally imagined that 
the essence of liberty consists in the power to choose between 
good and evil. If you ask an educated man to give you the 
definition of liberty, this will be the answer that he will give you, 
and he will require a certain amount of reflection, a certain effort, 
to understand how liberty can be farther or better defined. It 
is easy to understand why the first definition, though it is 
generally accepted, is inaccurate, when one considers that in the 
present day the only use man makes of his liberty is to choose 
between good and evil. But this abuse of liberty should not be 
allowed to alter its real character, or import into the definition 
of the word a meaning foreign to it. The essence of liberty does 
not consist in the choice between good and evil. Theology and 
philosophy have taught us that this is not the definition of the 
word. I will not enumerate the reasons, which are too subtle 
for you to follow : I will only cite two, which are within the 
comprehension of everyone. The will of God is free. That 
admits of no doubt. Liberty is perfect, and all perfections 



142 



Sermon 13* 



culminate in God. Therefore, in no manner is it possible to 
conceive that God can choose evil, or incline to evil : He must 
choose the good. " There is none good but one, that is God." 
And so liberty must consist in something else, which is not the 
choice between good and evil. The second reason is this : the 
will of Jesus Christ was free, otherwise His sufferings, His 
sacrifice, His death, would have been of no avail. For Jesus 
Christ evil was impossible : He was goodness itself ; and therefore 
the possible choice of evil cannot be admitted in the definition of 
the word liberty. What, then, is liberty ? It is the power to 
act or not to act — in other terms, it is the power of choice. This 
definition is common to theologians and philosophers. St. 
Thomas Aquinas says: * 4 Liberty consists in the faculty of 
choosing between the means which lead to a given end." Jules 
Simon says : " Liberty is the power of acting or not acting." 
God could or could not have created the world ; Jesus Christ 
could or could not have redeemed mankind as He did, or He 
might have done it in another way. But, my brethren, we have 
seen that with God and with Jesus Christ His only Son our 
Lord, liberty in all the fulness of its perfection dwells, to the 
exclusion of all possibility of evil. Therefore the power of doing 
evil not only does not belong to the essence of perfect liberty, but 
it is one of its weaknesses, of its infirmities. Consequently, if 
liberty is to be free from weakness, if it is to be maintained in all 
its vigour, it has need of being constantly directed towards the 
essential good, and to be brought back into the true path when it 
deviates from it. Hence the necessity of a law which enlightens and 
disciplines liberty. Jules Simon has expressed this truth as follows : 
" It is because I feel free that I feel myself obliged to act justly. 
Liberty, abandoned to itself, does not ennoble the person who 
possesses it, but lowers and degrades him. Liberty, when left to 
itself, becomes degraded ; but, w T hen governed by an unchanging 
law, it becomes an instrument of greatness." This could not 
have been expressed better. ..Now, observe the consequence of 
this reasoning. If true liberty requires a .law for its guidance, it 
follows that liberty and independence are not the same thing. 



113 



When we speak of liberty, we mean a force which develops itself 
in conformity with certain laws. When we speak of indepen- 
dence, we mean a kind of liberty which develops itself indepen- 
dently of the laws which ought to govern it. Therefore, liberty 
and independence are not, and cannot be, synonymous words. 
" But," you will say, " do not these rules r 23 a restraint upon 
liberty?" No; on the contrary, they support and strengthen 
it. Liberty may be compared to a mighty river, upon whose 
banks large dykes are raised to prevent its waters from inundating 
the surrounding country. Will you say that by these means the 
course of the river is impeded ? No ; on the contrary, it is the 
way to make it flow with greater force and volume. And thus to 
form rules for the guidance of liberty is not to injure, but, on the 
contrary, to prevent it from deviating, and thereby weakening its 
effect. Cicero, the proud Bepublican, said: " We cannot have 
liberty unless we are slaves to law." And Plato, Aristotle, those 
learned Sages have pronounced that demagogues are the enemies 
of true liberty. In France a Deputy of the States General, 
belonging to the extreme Left, compared his country and her 
state of would-be lawless freedom to a man whose members each 
possessed an intelligence of its own, in consequence of which one 
foot would move whilst the other stood still, the throat would 
close up when the stomach demanded food, the lips would sing 
when the eyes were weighed down by sleep. The testimony, 
then, of the greatest men prove that the most ardent champions 
of liberty have acknowledged that there is no liberty without law, 
without rule. But where are we to .find this rule, this law ? 
This is a most difficult and delicate question. Two consider- 
ations, however, will suffice to solve the problem. It is only truth 
which can command human intelligence, because human intelli- 
gence is created for truth. Now in order to be free, human action 
requires an intelligent guidance, therefore it is truth which rules 
the intelligence, and atihe.same time it is the intelligence which 
jmles ihe determination of <the wilLand directs its free action 
from its very birth. .Hence /truth is ihe only guide of liberty. 
Liberty .may transgress, .no J doubt, and deviate from this rule; 



144 



Sermon 13* 



but from what we have said it is clearly demonstrated that, when 
liberty disobeys this rule it degrades itself, and that so long, as it 
is faithful to this rule, it renews and maintains its vigour. 
Therefore it is truth which constitutes liberty. It points out a 
limit, it is true ; but upon that limit the very existence of liberty 
depends. It commands, it is true ; but it is like the command 
of the sun to the earth, drawing forth her fertility by means of 
its golden rays. These are, perhaps, fetters to the earth ; but 
the fetters are chains of light. How do we account for the 
perfect liberty of the Holy Angels ? It arises from the fulness of 
light which they enjoy, which surrounds them, in which they 
dwell — light so pure, so bright, as to exclude even the possibility 
of darkness or error. Now why is our liberty here below so 
incomparably less ? It is for this reason : light is betowed upon 
us in the measure most adapted to our life of trial, which, through 
our natural infirmity, is exposed to " error and falsehood" — those 
great obstacles to liberty. 

I think I have now shown to you that liberty requires some 
rule, that one must not confound it with absolute independence, 
and that the rule of liberty is truth. This granted, what are we 
to say to the various kind of liberties which are extolled every day 
— the liberty of thought, the liberty of conscience, the liberty of 
worship, the liberty of word and deed ? What is there to be said 
of the liberty of thought ? "I am free to think as I please." 
Doubtless, my brethren, of all the rights of men, the most sacred 
the most precious, the most inviolable, is that of liberty of thought. 
My arms can be chained to my side, my actions constrained : 
fchey may be restricted within the narrowest limits ; but the 
movement of my intelligence, of my thoughts, must ever remain 
with me, and in this kingdom of my brain no one but my- 
self is governor and lord. But is it true that we are free to 
think as we like ? Are we at liberty to think that we do not exist ? 
Are we at liberty to think that the world sprang into being of 
itself, and that God does not exist ? Is it true that we are at 
liberty to think that we owe nothing whatever to God ? Yes, in 
a certain sense we are free to think thus, as we are free to think 



145 



that two and two make four ; but you must observe, then, that 
this freedom does not go beyond a certain point, because, in spite 
of this freedom, we cannot always think of what pleases us, and 
we cannot prevent ourselves of thinking of that which is repug- 
nant to us. The murderer does not wish to think of his victim, 
yet the thought of that victim pursues him everywhere. But 
even when w r e have the power of thinking as we wish, have we an 
equivalent right to do so ? For example, we may think of bad 
subjects, we may long for them ; but have we a right to do so ? 
We may choose to deny the Bible, the truths of the Gospel, the 
Divinity of Our Lord Jesus Christ ; but have we a right to do so ? 
Both reason and common sense declare that when God has spoken, 
the part of man is to believe. Man has the right to see whether 
it is the voice of God which has really spoken or not ; but, it 
being once proved that God has spoken, he has no right to dis- 
believe. The idea that God should have given man the faculty 
of thought, and at the same time the power of disowning Him, is 
repugnant to all reason. There is no liberty of thought before 
God. But, having thus recognised the right of God over our 
thoughts, has man any right over them ? But why do I say 
" right "? Man not only has no right, but he has no power. 
Let all the wise men of the world gather together, let kings and 
princes, principalities and powers — even the powers of darkness, 
combine to control my thoughts : I defy them all to prevent me 
from thinking. It is God alone who can read the depths of my 
soul, and see what is passing there, and into these impenetrable 
depths neither king nor people may enter. As long as thought 
rem ains locked in the bosom, it is, in fact, hermetically sealed. No 
one can venture to invade this right, or deny to thought the right 
of birth, of development, of growth. It would seem as if nature 
herself intended to consecrate this independence of thought when 
she removed it beyond the region of human control. But have I 
not the right to hold strong opinions ? Gently ; this is another 
matter : you step from liberty of thought to liberty of speech. 
And, indeed, this is w r hat is advanced by those w T ho defend liberty 
of thought. Liberty of thought is not in reality menaced by this 



UG 



Sermon 13* 



inference, but it is put forward in order to entangle the incautious 
disciple, and prove that the one must be the necessary consequence 
of the other. They pretend that, as man has a right to think as he 
chooses, he has therefore a right to make manifest what he 
thinks. They pretend, moreover, that this is his natural right, 
and that no one can despoil him of it without being guilty of 
tyranny and injustice. Before, however, entering upon this 
question, I would say a few words concerning the liberty of 
conscience. 

You who ask for the liberty of conscience, just consider what 
you ask for. You ask for something at once impossible and 
useless. In the first place, you ask for what is impossible. Tell 
me, in fact, what is Conscience ? Conscience is that inward 
conviction by which we determine whether an action be good or 
bad ; by which we determine that we ought to act in one way 
rather than another ; by which we determine if we have done 
well in acting in one way instead of another. For example : my 
conscience decides for me that it is my duty to do good ; that 
I must abstain from offending my neighbour ; that I must 
refrain from complaining of his conduct; that I may follow 
a certain path if no law forbids me. It is impossible, then, 
for me to determine differently. Thus, when I have done right, 
I feel a certain satisfaction ; when I have done wrong, I feel 
sorry and grieved, the pangs of remorse seize me : I am over- 
whelmed with shame. It is impossible to feel otherwise, 
Therefore, liberty of conscience is not only, in point of fact, an 
impossibility, but, I add, it is also an impossible right for us to 
claim. Have we, indeed, the right to call evil good, and good 
evil ? Have we a right to settle that it is a good deed to slander 
our neighbour, to kill him, to rob him of his possessions ? And 
if we are guilty of stieh actions, have we a right to be proud of 
them, to make them a matter for rejoicing ? No ; and therefore 
liberty of conscience is an absurdity, because it is an evident 
impossibility. Let us suppose, for an instant, that there exists 
a monster in human form who, having lost ail sense of right and 
wrong, calls evil good, and good evil ; that he is . glad when he 



117 



has done wrong, and sorry when he has done right. Would you 
acknowledge that this man had really any right to rejoice in his 
own wickedness ? In speaking of liberty of thought a little 
while ago, I defied every existing power to prevent me from 
thinking ; and now, again, I defy all the powers that were and 
are to make me pronounce right what I know to be wrong, to: 
make me pronounce wrong what I know to be right ; to make me 
feel remorse for a good, or to rejoice in a bad action. What, 
then, is really intended by the words " liberty of conscience ? " 
It simply means the power of every individual to act in accord- 
ance with the dictates of his own conscience. 

Let us pass now to liberty of worship. What is the right 
which we claim with respect to the liberty of worship ? Do you 
mean the liberty to render to God the worship which is due to 
Him ? But this no one can prevent you from doing. Do you 
mean not to render any homage to God ? Yes ; you are at 
liberty not to render any homage, any worship to God ; but have 
you a right so to act ? You are at liberty to choose any form of 
worship you like, even one condemned by God ; but, my brethren, 
might does not constitute right. You are at liberty to become a 
Buddhist or a Mahomedan : you are free, in fact ; but you have 
not the right to do so, just as you are not free to steal or kill. 
For example, heathen Eome worshipped Jove, Spinoza declared 
that the aggregate creation was God, Hegel that God was naught. 
You are quite at liberty to render homage to these absurd gods. 
You will find , the world divided into thousands of religions : 
Polytheism, which admits of numerous gods; Islamism, which 
promises ungodly joys and pleasures ; Judaism, inspired by the 
hatred of Christ condemned to death by its priests : and Chris- 
tianity, which believes that Jesus Christ is God. Well, you are 
at liberty to choose; but one thing is certain — viz., that there 
can be but one true religion, and this is the religion of the Holy 
Catholic and Apostolic Church. There is no doubt that if a man; 
is born outside the fold of Christ's Church, and is trained, with- 
out any fault of his own, outside the fold of Christ's Church, and, 
in his ignorance of tetter things, believes his religion to be th$ 



148 



Sermon 13* 



true one, while no doubt to the contrary has ever entered his 
mind — if he has conscientiously followed the dictates of his con- 
science, this man will be saved, for in his soul he belongs to the 
true religion. But when a man sees occasion to doubt the truth 
of his religion, reason compels this man to try and enlighten 
himself, to seek diligently for the truth. 

And now you tell me you have a right to liberty of speech, 
and that you can make what use you please of that right. We 
may have the power, but have we the right ? No, my brethren, 
we have not the right to make use of it as we please. You may 
settle to make an ambitious career the object of your desires, you 
may intend to amass millions of money, and you cannot succeed 
in doing so — the fact remains that it cannot be done. Then 
have you the right to say that you can do as you choose ? No ; 
and as you have no right to think against truth and rectitude, 
so you are not at liberty to speak against truth and rectitude. 
The same law which puts a limits to independence of thought 
places a limit to independence of speech, or of pen. Speaking in 
general terms, this assumed right to promulgate our thoughts is 
a manifest absurdity, because, although it may be allowable to 
promulgate a thought, according to truth and rectitude you cannot 
deduct from this that it is allowed to express a thought against 
truth and rectitude. And if we consider this promulgation of 
thought with reference to its effect upon our neighbour, the 
absurdity increases, because, if we may not think against truth 
and rectitude, much less ought we to lead others to think 
thus. What, then, shall we say of the liberty of the press, 
this interchange of thoughts and opinions, which is regarded 
as the most precious of the rights of man ? It is always the 
same chimera of rights, without regard to duty. My brethren, 
can a man have the right to publish what he has not the 
right to think or to speak of ? My brethren, ought a man to 
have the right of publishing opinions which are an insult to 
the Creator of the universe, to Almighty God ? Ought he to have 
the right to publish things which are baneful and injurious to the 
social well-being of man ? Ought he to have the right to insult 



OMbertg. 



149 



everything, to scoff at every tiling, to slander everything ? Ought 
he to have the right to sow the germs of discord in our country 
and in our homes ? Ought he to have the right to conjure up 
evil passions by any means which may occur to him ? If you 
acknowledge such rights as these, liberty would cease to be 
liberty, and become license, and the social and moral order of the 
world must crumble to pieces. The Press should be subject to 
the same rule which governs our thought and speech — the law of 
truth, and the desire for the good of mankind. The Church, in the 
Word of God, commands you to attend the service on Sundays, 
to receive your Easter Communion. You are at liberty not to go 
to church on Sundays, not to receive your Easter Communion. 
No one can say you have not the power to neglect the command : 
this is, unhappily, the practice of many Christians ; but have you 
the right to neglect it ? No, because the Church, in God's name, 
enjoins you to go to church, and to receive the Holy Communion. 
Therefore, it is false to say that we have a -right to say and do what 
we choose. But let us well understand each other. With regard to 
religion, it is the common saying now : " I wish to be at liberty to 
do what I choose, and if men will not grant me this liberty, I shall 
take it for myself." To this I reply: "I wish to serve God to 
save my soul : who is to prevent me from doing so ? " I may be 
put in prison, gagged, bound, so that I cannot move. So it was in 
the time of Nero ; but might does not constitute right. So that 
I invoke liberty, but only true liberty, I invoke the right of doing 
good : I invoke it for myself, I invoke it for others, for myself and 
for everyone else, but not without restriction, because no one can 
restrain a man's wishes, although he can be prevented from doing 
what he ought to do. Therefore, true liberty has need of reserve, 
of the restraint of duty, for when liberty wishes to emancipate itself, 
it destroys itself by the very excess of its efforts. And this can 
truly be said of all kinds of liberty : it is true of physical as well 
as of moral liberty ; it is true also of civil and political liberty. 
It is true of physical liberty. You are walking on the mountain- 
top, and you see before you a narrow path. The rocks make a 
wall on one side : on the other yawns the precipice below, and 



150 



Sermon 13* 



men have protected with a railing the narrowest part of the path. 
And why so ? In order that the wayfarer, seized with sudden 
giddiness, may not fall down the precipice. You disdain these 
supporting rails because (you say) they are an insult to your 
liberty of passage. You are overtaken by giddiness, and then, 
what happens ? Your flesh is devoured by vultures, and your 
bones whiten unburied in the abyss below. The same thing may 
be said of moral liberty. Take one of these young men whom I 
see before me, honouring me with their attention just now. Give 
him money, and say to him : " Go and amuse yourself in all the 
cities of Italy, and in foreign parts, and when you have spent all 
your money come back again." That young man may be a fine 
specimen of his race, strong, active, full of self-confidence : he 
may be the hope of his family, the pride of his native city. In 
the course of a few years the young man returns so shattered that 
he presents the appearance of a living corpse. This is the effect 
of unrestrained moral liberty. The same may be said of civil and 
political liberty. My brethren, you may well speak of your civil 
and political rights, but these are nothing but nonsense if they 
are not recognised by everyone. Now, civil and political liberties 
have limits which protect on one. side, and offend on the other. 
These limits are established by laws ; laws are preserved and 
administered by authority : and when, under pretext of liberty, 
these laws are destroyed, authority is also destroyed : the protect- 
ing limits cease to exist : there is no longer liberty, but anarchy. 
There is a country where even on the prison-walls these three 
words are inscribed : " Liberty, Fraternity, Equality." These words 
must, indeed, seem a cruel mockery to the unfortunate individual 
who enters the prison in fetters — a mockery to him, a lesson for 
the passer-by, because the inference is : " If you wish for liberty, 
respect the liberty of others." This is the only security for 
liberty. It has been too much lost sight of, and no one ought to 
forget that the real love of liberty begins by respecting the liberty 
of others. 

My brethren, I have endeavoured to show you that, in order to 
be real and perfect, liberty has need of a rule of guidance. I have 



151 



also shown you that the only law to which liberty is amenable is 
the law of truth. Therefore, my brethren, every effort made to 
propagate the truth, which is the light of the soul, contributes to 
the emancipation of the soul of man from the dense clouds of 
ignorance, plants in his nature order and harmony, and so prepares 
man for the great reign of liberty. And here let philosophy 
recognise an echo of its own language. Liberty is the watch- 
word of philosophy, the principle for which the philosophers most 
hotly contend. Well, then, let them rejoice in this sacred and 
noble mission. I only ask of philosophy one thing : let her be 
consistent, let her act up to her principles, let her acquiesce in her 
own deductions. Listen, then, to the voice which speaks with an 
authority men are still slow to recognise : "I am the Light of the 
world : he that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall 
have the light of life " (St. John viii. 12). These are the words 
of Jesus Christ ; and when he thus proclaimed the doctrine in its 
splendour, what did He do but lay the foundations of the liberty 
of the world ? All the science of philosophy can offer us no more 
than His promise : " The truth shall make you free " (ibid 32), 
My brethren, the only one possible answer to this argument would 
be the assertion that the doctrine of Jesus Christ was false : that 
Jesus Christ was not the Son of God, but only a Prophet, like 
many others, without a Divine commission, and that Christianity 
was a delusion. By this means only, my brethren, could Chris- 
tianity be set in opposition to true liberty. But, my brethren, 
if for nineteen centuries the hammer of criticism has made no 
dent upon the indestructible shield of Gospel truth ; if the Gospel 
and Christianity, instead of being its enemies, are the true friends 
of liberty, it is upon them that liberty must rest for defence and 
support. And if revelation has brought liberty and truth into the 
world, it follows that faith, which is an instrument of truth, is 
also an instrument of liberty. It is faith which has established 
the reign of liberty in this world. When men's thoughts were 
fettered by all kinds of superstitions, when men groaned under 
every kind of slavery, it was faith alone which pronounced the 
word liberty. In the face of the armed tyranny of the Caesars, in 



152 



Sermon 13* 



the face of the tyranny of an established official religion, it was 
the voice of faith alone which was heard on high refusing to 
worship the false gods. We know that death was the certain fate 
of all who would not burn their heathen incense ; and so, for three 
centuries, the noble army of martyrs were content to shed their 
blood for the faith of Christ till they raised, as it were, a hecatomb 
before the altar of that truest and noblest form of liberty. And 
ever, through the long course of centuries, the Church has 
defended the cause of true liberty in the midst of dangers which 
imperilled her very existence. We see, then, the force of St. 
Paul's argument, where he likens the Church to Abraham's wife, 
Sarah, and calls her children the children of the freewoman, and 
the others the children of the bondwoman. Let^us see also how 
the language of historical fact corroborates the teaching of the 
Apostles. I will cite two instances only. In an electoral 
struggle which ended with the triumph of O'Connell, a poor 
labourer, who found himself thrown into prison for debt, was 
told that if he voted against the liberator of his country, the 
doors of the prison would be opened to him. The poor man, 
urged by the thought of his family who depended upon him for 
subsistence, was on the point of giving his vote for O'Connell's 
adversary, when his wife suddenly cried in his ear: ' ' Wretch! 
what art thou doing ? Eemember thy soul ! Eemember thy 
liberty ! " We will set against this an incident out of the life of 
Alphonse Karr. In 1848 Alphonse Karr was cited before the 
Oours de Eouen. He was interrogated by the President : " Citizen, 
you are accused of having said that, in consequence of universal 
suffrage, votes may be purchased at four francs apiece." " I 
retract," exclaimed Alphonse Karr, " Bravo, citizen ; bravo ! " 
the Assembly joined in chorus. " I retract," continued Alphonse 
Karr, " because, as I came here, I saw two men seated in front 
of a cafe, and one treated the other to a glass of something, I 
know not what. Let us, therefore, not speak of votes purchased 
for four francs, but rather of votes purchased for fourpence each." 
Imagine the clamour which ensued, all the more because he had 
touched a sore poin'-. What are we to infer from these two 



Xtberty 



153 



instances? The explanation is given by Guizot : "When man 
no longer believes in the existence of the soul, his love of liberty 
rests on a most precarious footing : the negation of the soul is, 
in fact, the negation of liberty. The recognition of the material 
side of our nature only must have for its practical result to make 
that nature subject to the laws which govern matter and the law 
of force. On the other hand, whatever serves to enlarge the 
powers of the soul, and to free them from the thraldom of the 
senses, is conducive to the progress of the soul towards liberty, 
because moral liberty is the only foundation upon which all forms 
of liberty can securely rest." 



154 



Sermon 14* 



XIV. 

THE WOKKING CLASSES. 

My Brethren, — The social order of mankind contains within 
itself a class of men whose existence, as a class, has ever been 
liable to the most varied, the most sudden, and the most startling 
alternations— the object now of veneration, now of contempt, 
now of love, now of hatred : a class of men who have been con- 
sidered by Society now in the light of a pledge of safety, now as 
a dangerous influence, now as a principle of life, now as an element 
of destruction ; a class of men whose wants, whose inclinations, 
whose aspirations, are at the present moment being taken up with 
keen interest by the philosopher, the "politician, the economist, 
the patriot, and the philanthropist, all of whom unite in saying 
that this is the question of the hour, one of burning interest, 
and vital consequence to the social welfare of the community. I 
need not give you the name of this class of men, for, from what 
I have told you, you will already have guessed it. It is a class 
as dear to me as it is to you : it m the working class. The work- 
ing man, God be thanked ! may yet count upon the generous 
enthusiasm of many a noble heart eager to promote his interest, 
and capable of indefatigable efforts upon his behalf. Unfor- 
tunately, however, the working man has also many enemies, some 
of whom seek to oppress him, others to deceive him, whilst both 
combine to make a victim of him if by so doing their own pur- 
pose would be served. Foremost among these are his material- 
istic employers — men without heart, who, far from recognising in 
the artisan a brother in Christ, a soul created for the glory of God, 
see nothing in him but a machine — a machine made of flesh and 
bone to be used in order to accumulate riches for its employer. 
These are the men who make use of this creature of their con- 
ception as long as he can serve them, who profit by his labour so 
long as it can avail them, and then cast him off. There are 



Ube TOlorftfna Classes* 



155 



others who, seeing that they can derive no immediate profit from 
the labour of the working man, deceive him with flattery. They 
speak to him of liberty, of equality, of fraternity : they pretend 
to look upon him as a king ; but it is only in order that they may 
administer his household economy, and take possession of his 
hardly earned savings. Far from giving him good advice, they 
lead him astray by teaching him to hate all idea of duty and self- 
sacrifice. In order to put the working man upon his guard, I 
wish to show you his true friend, that he may then know who 
are his flatterers, who are his slanderers, and be warned against 
them. I wish also to place within his grasp the truth, which 
alone can comfort and save him. My brethren, this is, as you 
perceive, not only an important, but a very delicate subject. 
But, as it is truth alone which can guide us along the difficult 
path, I will endeavour to put the clue of truth into your hands. 
My brethren, who is the best friend of the working man ? The 
working man's best friend is the friend who can best show him 
wherein lies the real dignity of his calling, for, whatever may be 
his grade in the social scale, man has need of this conviction. It 
will ever prove to him a source of true consolation, and, if 
deprived of it, his energies will completely fail him, and there is 
nothing left for him but ruin and despair, 

Let us now see who has the power to make this important 
revelation to the working man. Who is it that can bring him 
this consolation ? Is it the man of letters ? Is it the political 
economist — the philosopher, or, perhaps, the politician ? Let us 
see. We will begin with the man of letters, and we will take for 
example Bernardin de Saint Pierre. He goes to the working 
man, and he says to him : " You are miserable, because you are 
forced to work from morning till night to earn your bread. 
Listen to me, my friend. The earth has mountains and valleys : 
mountains, whence flow the waters which fertilise the soil ; 
mountains, whence spring the rivers which carry life and riches 
wherever they flow. Well, in Society also there must be moun- 
tains, and these are the rich. Again, in Society there must be 
valleys, and these are the working men. It is your mission in 



156 



Sermon H* 



creation, therefore take comfort and accept it. " What comfort 
is there in this ? How much consolation is the poor working 
man likely to derive from such a theory as this ? He opens his 
eyes wide in the effort to understand it ; but when he does under- 
stand it, he finds it contains nothing to relieve the tears of want 
and misery wrung from him by the extremity of his suffering. 
Now let us take the political economist. This time it is Thiers 
who speaks to the working man : " We have made some progress. 
Work has been freed from many shackles by the light which 
science has cast upon it. 9 It has found a larger sphere of activity, 
and has become more fertile in results. We have seen interest 
on capital decrease from. six to four per cent. A considerable 
reduction has taken place in objects of consumption. The 
working man's wages have been raised. Are not all these 
tangible proofs that we are on the right road? " But what is 
there in all this to remind the working man of the dignity of his 
calling ? What is the consolation offered to him ? I see him 
turning upon the economist with the same indignation with 
which he turned upon the man of letters, and he thinks that his 
misery is great enough without the mockery of science to increase 
it. We will now ask the philosopher : the philosopher who has 
made a study of natural religion, of the rights and duties of man. 
Listen to Jules Simon. He tries to comfort the working man — 
nay, his whole face beams with benevolence as he turns to him 
and says : " Your lot is, indeed, a sad one ! I pity you, indeed, 
for there is no comfort for you in your trouble. As a child, you 
were taught to seek comfort in prayer, to turn to God ; but this 
is a delusion. God is too far off : He cannot hear your prayer ; 
and besides, He cannot help you if He would, for this evil is the 
result of the general laws which govern the world, and these laws 
cannot be infringed without causing a revolution of the universe." 
This is how the philosopher reasons. The workman repels him 
with indignation, and cries in despair : " Where can I turn for 
comfort ? " We will see what the politician has to say. He says : 
" We are those who consider the working classes : we are those 
who are preparing new laws and plans for their welfare, which 



ZTbe Morftino Classes, 157 



will one day be carried into effect." " But so you have said for 
so many years, for such a long while, and I am tired of waiting," 
answers the working man. " There is no change for the better 
in my condition. How am I to believe in you ? You have been 
able to advance your own interests, for since you took up the 
cause of the working classes, you have managed to enrich your- 
self ; but you have done nothing for me : I am as poor as ever : 
your opulence is an insult to my misery. " It is difficult to 
answer these words, and yet the politician might insist and say : 
" You are unjust towards me, fori have done something for you ; 
you are wrong in complaining that I have done nothing for you. 
Have I not given you the right of voting ? " Having said this, 
the politician has nothing more to add. But in the meanwhile 
the poor working man is convinced of the utter uselessness of 
such efforts on his behalf, which bring him neither consolation 
nor help ; and he exclaims a'gain : 1 ' Where can I turn for 
comfort ? Who will help me to lift my heavy burden ? If it 
be my lot to labour and toil, is there no way of bringing me a 
little happiness it the midst of my work ? Is there no power in 
Heaven or on earth that can help me?" And there are those, 
whom I will not name, who will then step forward and say to 
him : " Working man, you seek comfort : you must assert your 
dignity, your rights. It only rests with yourself to do so. Y r ou 
are the king of the hour ; you know your own physical strength ; 
you have only to move, and the world will tremble ; you have only 
to mass your comrades together, and you will soon overturn the 
usurpers who are now your masters ; you have only to rush upon 
civilization, and scatter it to the winds." But such words are an 
insult to the common sense of the working man. He answers with 
astonishment and indignation : " What ! do you suppose that 
progress and education have done no more for us than that — that 
you propose to us the act of a savage ? Might, I know, is the charac- 
teristic of the brute ; but right surely is the law that should govern 
men ! The greatest force is not that which oppresses, which 
crushes : it is that which allows itself to be constrained by love. 
I have read — for I, too, can read — that the ideal of the king of 



158 



Sermon 14* 



the forest is not the untamed lion, but the lion who recognises his 
benefactor.* The law of love is stronger than the law of force. 
Begone ! I will have none of the insolent assumption of power : 
it is an insult to my understanding." Again, there are others who 
will come to the working men and say : " You are really the only 
useful members of the community : all the rest are parasites and 
usurpers. Yours are the hands which guide the plough as it drives 
its furrows through the fields, yours are the hands which build 
the ships which plough the waves. It is you who first make the 
engines, and then drive them from city to city, from one end of 
the country to another. Look here, Society is like a great factory, 
made up of wheels within wheels. It is you who make the 
wheels go round. There is no occasion to tax your strength by 
having recourse to force ; go away and simply do nothing, and 
leave the rest to their own devices. They will soon perceive 
their utter helplessness, and how entirely they depend upon you." 
This doctrine has a great fascination for the working man. He 
would, perhaps, be ensnared by it, were it not for a fable which 
he has heard in his childhood, and which now flits across his 
mind. One day the limbs rebelled against the stomach, and said : 
" The stomach is idle: we will no longer feed the stomach." 



* This illustration would appear to have reference to the story of Androclus 
and the lion, which we venture to subjoin, as it may have escaped the recollec- 
tion of our readers. Androclus was a Roman slave, who had been compelled, 
by the severity of his master, while in Africa, to run away from him. Having 
one day taken refuge in a cave from the heat of the sun, a lion entered, 
apparently in great pain, and, seeing him, went up to him, and held out his 
paw. Androclus found that a large thorn had pierced it, which he drew out, 
and the lion was soon able to use his paw again. They lived together for some 
time in the cave, the lion catering for his benefactor. But at last, tired of his 
savage life, Androclus left the cave, was apprehended by some soldiers, brought 
to Rome, and condemned to be thrown to the wild beasts in the circus. But a 
lion which was let loose upon him, instead of springing upon his victim, 
exhibited signs of recognition, and began licking him. On enquiry being made 
as to this singular incident, and the story having been made known to the 
Emperor (Tiberius), Androcluo was pardoned, and presented with the lion r 
which he used to lead about the city. — (Editok.) 



ZTbe TKflorfttitfl Classes* 



159 



But, when the stomacli was no longer fed, it ceased to be able to 
strengthen the limbs. By means of this apologue a new light 
breaks in upon the working man's mind. He begins to question 
the wisdom of his last adviser, and to say : " Perhaps I have been 
deceived. Perhaps it is not true that I can suffice to myself." 
Indeed, my friend, you cannot suffice to yourself. Just as the 
physician is necessary for your bodily health, so the priest is 
essential to the maintenance of your spiritual life. And in order 
that you may enjoy in peace the fruit of your labour, you have 
need of the statesman or judge to determine their merits. Were it 
only for these three offices, you have need of Him Who is not, 
like yourself, an artisan. But, it may be argued, there have been 
cases when the artisan labourer has attained to medical science, 
and handled with skill and success the surgeon's instruments. 
Sometimes he has held the scales of justice ; sometimes he has 
become a priest of God, and has offered on the Altar the sacrifice 
of the Lord. I am w T ell aware of it ; but it is the exception, and 
not the rule. As a general rule, it requires not only study, but 
the possession of some capital to learn the science of healing, 
worthily to uphold the office of the priesthood, or to administer 
justice. For a career like either of these, men are required who 
have had other than mere industrial training. By applying 
himself to the study of the laws of nature, the wise man perfects 
the method of labour, and renders it more fruitful in its return. 
Were he compelled to wield the hammer and the hatchet in lieu 
of the pen and the compass, could he attain this ? No such 
results con Id be expected from him, if he were compelled to 
work for his daily bread in the workshop. You see, then, that 
different grades of society are necessary for the maintenance of 
the social life. The working man is, perhaps, half convinced, but 
he is not satisfied, and he exclaims again : " Where am I to find 
comfort, honour, and respect ? " and, poor man, if he is without 
religion, it is a hard matter for him to refrain from cursing his 
condition. My poor friends, listen to your truest comforter, your 
best friend. It is religion which can bring you consolation : it is 
religion which can show you the real dignity of your calling. 



160 



Sermon H* 



Eeligion teaches you that you already possess the greatness you 
desire, because God, Who is the source of all greatness, has not 
granted to any social class in the same degree as to the working 
class the privilege of resembling Him. Let us consider, first of 
all, God in the creation, and secondly, in the redemption of the 
world. First in creation. Tell me, working man, when God 
stretched out the Heavens like a curtain, when He laid the 
foundations of the earth, when He made it bring forth and bud, 
when He formed man out of the dust of the ground — what are 
all these but the works of His hands ? Herein lies the digmty 
of your calling. When, intent upon your work, you have only 
to raise your eyes to Heaven there to behold the Maker of all 
things, in the contemplation of Whom you will find so noble an 
ideal that you will ever after glory in your vocation, and bless 
your life of toil. You are great, because God has, by the labour 
of the creation, dignified all work. And religion adds : " Not 
only do you work as God worked, but He allows you to be a 
worker together with Him. Indeed, God, in creating the world, 
left, so to say, His work to be finished — not that there was 
anything wanting in His design, not that any act of His was 
deficient in weight, in number, or in measure ; but in forming 
His creatures with their respective characteristics, He left to them 
the task of bringing His work to perfection. God has sown the 
seed of life in the earth : but it requires man's co-operation to 
cause it to blossom in the light of the sun. God has placed 
metals everywhere ; but it requires the hand of the working man 
to dig them out of the bowels of the earth, and afterwards turn 
them to account. God has placed coal in the depths of the mine, 
that the working man may draw it thence and appropriate it for 
his own use. The artisan is, then, a worker together with God, 
therefore working men should be proud, for the very materials 
which they work upon bear witness to their origin. And if these 
could speak they would say : " Par from being of little account, 
because you are a working man, you fulfil a great calling. These 
materials you handle day by day were first created by the 
Almighty hand of God. He was the first Maker of all things. 



Xlbe TKflorftfna Classes* 



IGl 



He wills that you should co-operate in His work : He wills that, 
having Himself created, you may develop the raw material : He 
wills that, having Himself begun the great work, you may carry 
it forward. 

Now let us contemplate the work of God in redemption. A 
curse had fallen upon labour : it was necessary to raise, to reinstate 
it, in order to lighten its penalty and pain. What does God do ? 
He works yet once again and for thirty years. One day, we 
read, the angels came and brought the glad tidings to the earth 
that the long-expected Messiah, the Redeemer of the world, had 
come. All hearts beat with joy and expectation. Where will He 
be ? Will he come at the head of an army ? Shall we find Him 
in the chair of some learned man ? Or, in accordance with the 
general desire, will He appear as some mighty Sovereign ? 
Wonderful to relate, the Messiah, the Redeemer of men, the 
Saviour of the world, is a little child, poorer than the child of a 
working man, since He has not even a cradle in which to lay 
His head. Joseph, His supposed father, is a working man; 
Mary, His mother, of low estate. His first worshippers are 
shepherds. And what is the career chosen by the Redeemer of 
mankind ? He might have chosen a career which would at once 
have commanded the esteem of men : but, on the contrary, He 
wills to labour with His hands, and to take the low T est place in 
the sooial scale. Thus by His example He gives renewed 
emphasis to the Divine command: 4 4 In the sweat of thy face 
shalt thou eat bread." Born, then, in a humble estate, He willed 
thereby, to sanctify the lot of the working man, and lo ! a great 
and glorious marvel is revealed to our astonished sight. It was 
not the splendour of Imperial Rome, it was not the wisdom of her 
sages, it was not the force of her mighty legions — none of these 
were to accomplish the redemption of the world. No ; the 
Saviour of mankind was the Son of lowly parentage, born in an 
obscure village of Judea, so that the people murmured and said : 
" Is not this the carpenter, the Son of Mary, the brother of James 
and Joses and Simon ? and are not His sisters here with us ? " 
(St. Mark vi. 3). And the Son of Mary, Who was also the Soli 

M 



162 



Sermon 14. 



of God before He redeemed the world, thought fit to teach us the 
dignity of labour by handling himself the instruments of labour, in 
order that they might ever after weigh less heavily in the hand 
of the working man. Now, my brethren, I ask you, Is there not 
something divine in human labour ? When one thinks that God,, 
Who for our sakes had been made man, endured voluntary 
labour and toil for the space of thirty years of His life upon 
earth, what a halo of glory does not this shed upon the labour of 
the working man ? Oh ! my poorer friends, consider that it was 
the Son of God Who made Himself of no reputation, and took 
upon Him the form of a servant. Do not, therefore, complain of 
your lot — nay, rather, across the gulf of centuries, let the 
recollection of the home and workshop of Nazareth come as 
a heavenly messenger to set a crown of light on every toil- 
stained brow. After having thus passed thirty years of His 
life in a humble workshop, Jesus Christ began the work of 
the redemption of mankind. He chose to associate with Him 
His disciples as fellow-workers in the accomplishment of His 
work. And where does He go to seek these disciples ? Perhaps 
He searched for them amongst the rich, the powerful, the 
wise of the age ? No, my brethren : He went to the shores of 
a lake, and there he chose twelve poor fishermen, who were 
making a precarious livelihood out of the product of their 
fisheries, And these poor ignorant fishermen became afterwards 
the regenerators of the world, at a time when philosophy had 
not been able to save one single soul : so that the immense 
edifice of Christian civilization represented by the Vatican 
Basilica rests wholly upon the shoulders of two humble workmen £ 
St. Peter, who was a fisherman, St. Paul who was a tent- 
maker. You must therefore perceive that Jesus Christ our 
Saviour conferred a far greater dignity upon your calling by 
being born in your station of life, one of yourselves, than if 
He had heaped upon you every worldly distinction. Do not 
envy those who are above you in rank : it is they on the 
contrary who should envy you, because, whilst God has clone 
everything for you, He has done little for them. The rich man 



TTbe Worftfng Classes* 



ICS 



cannot say : " My Saviour was rich like I am." Neither can the 
learned man say: " My Saviour filled the chair of learning 
in the school where I, and such as I am, acquired our know- 
ledge." Nor can the powerful and those in authority say: 
" My Saviour held this power before granting it to me." But 
the working man can say : " My Saviour has suffered as I am , 
now suffering : He has worked as I work : He has been a working 
man like myself." Yes, when Jesus Christ our Lord, the Son 
God, for our sakes became man, He did not disdain to choose for 
His kingly palace the worshop of the poor artizans, for His 
throne the workman's bench, for His sceptre the workman's 
tools. Therefore, it is no flattery to say to the working men 
that Jesus Christ belongs, if possible, more to him than to the 
rest of mankind, because, during His sojourn upon earth, He 
willed to be a priest and an artizan like himself. Nay, my 
brethren, I should rather say an artizan and a priest, because 
He laboured for thirty years in the carpenter's shop at 
Nazareth, and was a priest only three years. Well, then, my 
brethren, the working man must not forget that religion is his 
real and truest friend — religion, which reveals to him the dignity 
of his calling, and which raises him beyond the reach of degrada- 
tion. What, in fact, was labour before Christianity, before 
the coming of Jesus Christ ? It was slavery, dishonour. 
Ease and luxury repelled labour with scorn as something 
beneath contempt. Perhaps, with some few, labour found 
favour. Witness the celebrated plough of Cincinnatus. But 
Aristotle calls work illiberal, Plato the same ; Cicero speaks of 
the working men as people of no account — barbarians. And 
even to-day, where the religion of Jesus Christ is unknown, we 
find work treated in the same manner. The Brahmins of India 
think themselves contaminated if obliged to give themselves up 
to labour. The savages of North America shun labour, and 
impose it on their women, whom they treat as slaves. And even 
amongst ourselves, as we learn from an only too celebrated 
Review, Labour is honoured in words only. We cringe to the 
rich man, not to him whose hands are hardened by work. It is 



164 



Sermon 14* 



religion alone which can ennoble the condition of the working 
laan, religion which, having revealed to him, ' ' as in a glass, the 
glory of the Lord," can change him " into the same image from 
glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord" (2 Cor. iv. 6). 
It is to the influence of religion that the asylums for the poor 
artisan, where mothers can leave their infants while they go to 
feek* work, owe their existence. To the same influence are due 
the orphanage for the sons of the artisan, and the hospital where, 
in slekness and suffering, he can find relief. If Cicero came now 
to ask •: " What may one expect from the working classes ? what 
is fee working man capable of ? " religion would reply by pointing 
to legions of martyrs and virgins of humble origin and low 
estate, who have laid down their lives for the faith. 

It is not, however, in this way alone that religion shows its 
sympathy with the working man ; but it is also by explaining to 
him the meaning of labour. In order that labour should be 
worthy of man, it must not be restricted to a material force : it 
mest constitute moral merit, it must adapt itself to the fulfilment 
«£ an aim worthy of its mission ; otherwise labour is reduced to 
flie rank of mere mechanical action. And then, where is the 
difference between the machine which works and the mechanic 
who sets it in motion ? Both unite to obtain the same results. 
£tea receives wages : the other receives nothing. This is what 
ill© ancients thought of labour, and this is what some modern 
Beformers think of it ; but where others only see the tension of 
muscles, religion discerns the force of will : religion takes into 
aeeonnt the effort of a free being willing to sacrifice his freedom 
wfirin the limits of a narrow circle. And therefore religion, in 
explaining the true meaning of labour to us, in showing us its 
troe aim, opens out a wider horizon to the working man, makes 
Mm look forward to a happier future, and says to him in the 
words of Jesus Christ : " Labour not for the meat which perisheth, 
feat for that meat which endureth unto everlasting life " (St. 
John vi. 27). Poor man, you labour ; but your work is of short 
deration, and your recompense eternal. Look not at the things 
wMch are seen, but at those which are not seen, because the 



TTbc Morluno Classes, 



1G5 



things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not 
seen are eternal. In this way religion is ever indicating to him 
that Heaven will be the reward of his labour ! Heaven ! Here 
lies the true consolation of the working man ; and religion points 
to Heaven and says: 4 'Poor man: if you look merely at your 
daily earnings, they will seem to you very insignificant ; but there 
is something else for you beside your wages : there is HeaTen 
awaiting you, and that is a very different thing." This is the 
ineffable consolation which can sustain his courage, and make 
him forget the sufferings of life in the thought of the goal wMcli 
he should ever keep steadily in sight. No doubt, at the end of 
a hard day's work, a poor man feels sad when he looks at Ms 
scanty earnings, and says : " Here is the price of my labour "4 
but it is a different matter when, believing in God, fixing Ms 
hopes on Heaven, the working man can exclaim : " This money 
is not the whole price of my toil ; my Saviour, Who died to -win 
Heaven for me, He knows my sufferings. His eye has been upon 
me while I have been at work. He alone can give me my 
reward." And, strong in this conviction that this life is only 
transitory, that it is but a path which leads to the heavenly 
mansions, he is enabled to bear the burden of labour because lie 
sees what will be its eternal reward. Therefore, wherever 
Christianity has appeared to dignify and elevate labour, labour 
has been found to serve as a valuable basis on which to erect the 
order of modern social life. Labour was first introduced into the 
deserts of the East by those contemplative monastic orders who, 
while their thoughts were fixed on Heaven, still did not think it 
derogatory to their holy life to use their hands for the humblest 
kinds of work. St. Basil, who has ever been looked up to as an 
authority by the monastic orders, says : " The essence of a monastic 
life is prayer ; but the form our prayer takes is work." And in 
truth the cells of these monastic orders resembled a bee-Mve, 
where each one held in his hand the wax of labour, while on Ms 
lips was the honey of prayer. We turn to the West, and we find 
again the work of the monastic orders in the cultivation of large 
tracts of land, in the erection of such monuments to religion as 



166 



Sermon 14* 



must ever remain the admiration of our century, though it cannot 
attempt to rival them. These men carried all before them, and 
St. Benedict on the one hand, and the Protestant writer Guizot 
on the other, unite to recognise in them the real civilizers of 
Europe. It is doubtful, however, if it is possible for us to 
understand and appreciate the extent of the sacrifices that 
.were necessary, the heroism that was required to introduce 
this emancipation of labour in its ennobled and dignified form, 
into the settled habits of civilized nations. And mean- 
while, modern industry takes its point of departure from 
the emancipation of labour. The creations of our modern 
industry are an indirect result of Christianity. There is nothing 
'of the kind to be found in the heathen nations. Before the 
coming of our Saviour, the progress of industry was impossible, 
for two reasons : first, because the slave-workman did not care 
to perfect his work or his trade, since he had little to gain by it ; 
the profits were not his : they all went to others. On the other 
hand, the rich and the learned, wiio possessed the two elements 
of vital importance in the perfecting of industrial labour — that is 
to say, riches and knowledge — -would have shunned with horror 
all idea of manual labour, and thus there could be no communi- 
cation between the scholar's study and the workshop of the poor 
artisan. No sooner, however, was labour emancipated by Chris- 
tianity, than this communication took place : the scholar's study 
was turned into a laboratory, the workshop into a manufactory: 
-and then science, applied to industry, produced those machines 
which have increased production a hundredfold. Yes, I will repeat 
it at the risk of astonishing certain employers, and above all 
certain learned men, who are too bigoted to enter into the public 
•spirit ; I will repeat it — our modern industry is the fruit of the 
work of Christianity, and what is more, we must be ever looking 
for Jesus Christ in the very heart of our industrial enterprises. 
We must find Him in the midst of the working classes, w 7 e must 
constrain Him to take up His abode with them, otherwise, what 
is to happen ? Look at modern industry. She displays with 
legitimate complacency the perfection of her products, and proudly 



Ube TKHorlUng Classes* 



1G7 



"beckons men from one end of the world to the other to admiro 
her productions at exhibitions ; but whilst her hands are full of 
riches, her garments conceal many a grievous wound. There is 
inany a tell-tale witness all along the track of her career. I am 
astounded at the splendour of modern industry ; but, I ask, at 
what a price has it been won ? How much virtue has it cost ? 
How many priceless innocent lives have been sacrificed to procure 
it ? My brethren, you congratulate yourselves on the progress of 
industry, and I weep over its moral failures. You count the 
wreaths and medals awarded by the world to industry, and I 
■consider the havoc it has made of human life. And what is 
'opulence worth which has been acquired at the cost of morality ? 
What material prosperity is this which ends by leaving nations 
•and multitudes without moral principles ? For let us not deceive 
ourselves, labour elevates or degrades man : it either tends towards 
his improvement or towards his demoralization. Ycu give labour 
the flower of your citizens, you set apart for it the best quarter 
of your city. What will labour do with this ? Will its school 
be a moral or an immoral one? Will those who are trained in 
'it be young men on whom their families and country can rely, 
who will be the supporters of their families and of their country, or 
'will they be young men wholly given to sensuality and scepticism ? 
My brethren, I am not here to hurl anathemas at modern 
industry ; hat when we consider the working classes, when we 
■plead their cause, how can we avoid pointing out the rocks on 
Which they may make shipwreck? The evil is not in labour 
itself ; it is not in the organization of labour ; the evil is that 
labour has again been heathenized, that labour no longer 
recognises Christ. For in these days the relative attitude 
towards each other of great public institutions is too often main- 
tained by moral degradation, and this is the reason the condition 
of the working classes is fast becoming what it was in the days of 
Paganism, when labour was considered equivalent to servitude, 
and therefore a dishonour and disgrace to the citizen who was 
'compelled by manual labour to earn his bread. Now there is not 
so much liberty of choice as to whether they will labour or not. 



168 



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They must labour. Their mind is shackled by anxiety : it is in 
perpetual bondage. If he ceases to believe in Providence, the 
working man can see nothing to overrule his destiny but a blind 
fate, which renders useless and abortive his utmost efforts : 
nothing but a cruel genius, whom he appeals to in vain, against 
whom some rebel, and to whom others are compelled to submit* 
Looked upon in this light, what is labour but ignominious 
slavery ? Some have devoted themselves to the operative ques- 
tion, but with the cold indifference with which they would 
approach an algebraical formula ; and meanwhile, behind this 
problem, lies the fate of the majority of our brethren. But listen 
to the cry which ascends to Heaven, for it is the voice of the 
sons of labour, of the working classes. Well, I ask you, is this 
a cry of joy, or a cry of misery ? Has that voice the accent of 
anger, or of grief ? Does it denote a menace, or is it the expres- 
sion of hope ? If you are sincere, you must say : " That voice is 
filled with lamentation and distress ; but it is not wrung from 
the sufferer by mere physical privations : it has a deeper and 
more hidden source. There has been a void created in the soul 
of the poor workman : there has been a void created in his heart : 
here lies the cause of his suffering, and this is why he is fast 
approaching an epoch of despair. The new theories which have 
turned away his mind from God, who has ordained labour, which 
have deprived him of Jesus Christ, and banished His influence 
from the workshop — these theories, which were supposed to 
bring him relief and gladness, have had the contrary effect of 
filling him with despair. The door of Heaven having been closed 
to him. he reasons thus : " Since the future life is a mere fable, 
since there is no Heaven for me, I will endeavour to make my 
Paradise upon earth," and so he endeavours to get all the 
pleasure, and advantage, and enjoyment he can out of this life, 
and, when these fail him, he gets angry, swears, takes up arms 
against Society, and brings about his own ruin. It is in vain 
that people make their boast of providing the working man with 
food and clothes if they begin by taking from him that hope in 
the future life which comforts him far more than any temporary 



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relief they can offer him. My brethren, supposing the poor 
working man to be no longer able to control his passions, what 
is left for him to do ? He has been deprived of that which might 
have held him back even on the edge of the abyss : he has been 
deprived of that which might have poured a little healing balm 
into his wounds, and he endeavours to forget his misery in 
dissipation : he loses his time, he loses his money — resources 
upon which depend the maintenance of his wife and children* 
He loses his honour, he loses his liberty, and ends either in 
prison, or by committing suicide. 

My brethren, when religion has revealed to the working man 
wherein consists the real dignity of his calling : when religion 
has comforted him in his distress by representing Heaven to him 
as the reward of his labour, religion has yet another office to fulfil 
towards him, by instructing him in his duty. " But," you will 
say, ' 4 is it religion alone that can teach the working man his 
duty? I know there are many others who think themselves 
equally competent to do so." Yes, there are many who speak 
fluently to the working man of home, of honour, and of duty ; 
but, my dear brethren, these words, which have so deep a 
meaning when inspired by Christian teaching, have they the same 
significance when spoken detached from it ? Mark well, when 
anyone speaks thus to the people, and does not speak to them in 
the Name of Jesus Christ, this man speaks in vain : his words are 
nothing but a tinkling cymbal. His remarks may be very fine ; 
but, my brothers, experience teaches us that they have converted 
no one. Religion alone can efficiently preach to men their 
duties, because religion alone has authority to do so. What duties 
does religion preach to the working man ? My brethren, I will 
not speak of economy, I will not speak of order, method, or 
diligence in work ; I will not speak of family duties — these things 
are all known : I will remind you of one duty only, which I find 
in the Gospel, and the Gospel mentions this duty when speaking 
of your Divine Example, Jesus Christ. What is this duty ? It 
is submission to legitimate authority. My brethren, it is in your 
own interest that I speak, for where there is no authority there 



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can be no freedom. Authority is the absolute condition of liberty, 
and where authority is not respected, you will find license and 
tyranny, not true liberty. And it is a fact, my brethren, that a 
land of liberty quite unknown to the Gospel is being now preached * 
io the working man : the liberty of evil, the liberty of error, his 
.emancipation from every law, human and Divine. What has 
been the result ? The poor working man, like a train on fire 
without a driver, has rushed headlong into servitude, and finds 
no possible means of escape from it. Some will smile and 
.exclaim : " But this is a lie ; or, if not a lie, something very like 
it : it is a paradox. 5 ' Let us see whether it is a lie, or a paradox. 
Working men, listen ; and you, my brethren, all of you consider 
the artisan from the political, economical, religious, and moral 
point of view, and then watch him in the workshop, watch him 
in the market-place, in a time of revolution. I ask you, Is the 
working man free now ? Is he free from the political standpoint ? 
No; he is a slave to the spirit of his party: he must follow 
blindly wherever his party leads him, even to the point of 
becoming a tool of destruction in their hands. Can you say that 
the working classes act with liberty of conscience when they 
approach the ballot-box to add the weight of their suffrage to the 
scales in which are suspended the destinies of nations, sur- 
rounded as they are by so many leaders waiting to deceive them ? 
Can you callthis liberty for the poor working man ? Consider 
them, next, from the economical standpoint. Often the poor 
artisan is the victim of labour, of the organization of labour. 
Some great industrial company, owner of land and capital, hires 
him, and grows rich at the cost of his labour — I had almost said, 
of his honour. Hence, my brethren, arise those idlers who, by 
means of strikes, transform the factory into a battlefield, which 
Bnds in nothing but defeat and misery. Consider the working 
man from the religious and moral point of view. Will you say 
that he is free ? Poor fellow ! they have deprived him even of 
his Sunday : his one free day. Poor working man ! having 
toiled in the sweat of his face all the week, having eaten all the 
week his hardly-earned bread, he had need of one day of rest, and 



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that has been taken away from him. He has been forced to turn 
the day of the Lord into the day of his master, in order that he 
may not die of hunger. Consider him, next, in the workshop. 
Can you say that there he is free ? No, my brethren, he is not 
free ; he is oppressed. No, I will not retract the word — he is 
oppressed ; but it is not by his employers, for his employers are not 
so tyrannical as they are supposed to be ; but he is oppressed by 

whom do you think ? By the mistakes, by the prejudices 

which, arising in the workshops and factories, take the living 
shape of a demagogue in order to misrepresent everything. And, 
by degrees, he obtains the support of an impudent and fictitious 
majority, which deprives the individual of all personal liberty. 
In the workshop or factory where this kind of tyranny prevails, 
there is neither liberty of thought nor of conscience ; and not 
only are the working man's actions controlled, but an attempt is 
also made to penetrate his innermost feelings, and this is a species 
■of oppression of the most revolting kind. Again, look at the 
working man in the streets at a time of rebellion. Will you say 
that he is free ? There, also, he is oppressed. In the first 
instance, he is oppressed by the conquerors if he is unsuccessful ; 
and if he succeeds, he is oppressed likewise. He obtains in either 
case no result from his victory ; and why ? Because the poor 
working man, on the day after the revolution, whilst hoping much 
from those who have forced him to risk his life that they may 
reap the fruits of his victory, learns from a weeping mother the 
terrible truth — namely, that those who fight most earnestly in 
the cause of liberty are ever abandoned by those whose sole end 
is to profit by such an event. Let us therefore strive to defend 
the working classes from their enemies. Their claim is now 
being urged upon Society, and in their misery and hopelessness 
they appeal to us for assistance, and, seeing that no one will 
attempt to help them from disinterested motives, they indulge 
in dreams which, were they ever realised, would result in nothing 
but disenchantment. But, you will say, what is to be done in 
•order really to assist the working classes ? Are we to follow the 
example of the economists who iave thought it right to separate 



172 



Sermon 14, 



labour from religion ? I answer that it is a mistake to consider 
one side only of a man's nature : we must take the whole being 
into our consideration, and we must satisfy all his aspirations if 
we would make him happy and contented with his lot, and set 
him in the good and perfect way. The artisan is not a mere 
animal : he is a moral and intellectual being, whose intellectual 
and moral needs must therefore be satisfied before all, even before 
his physical wants. When the working classes are reduced to 
the consideration of material things alone, without any thought 
for God, it follows as a natural consequence that they must make 
an idol of money ; and that they may think themselves at liberty 
to gratify, at no matter what cost, their love of pleasure and 
sensual enjoyment, and that all means are lawful to obtain these 
ends, provided they can escape the police and the judge. The 
result of this system is simply to consign the whole class to 
misery, crime and despair. How do these crimes, which we 
shudder to read of, originate ? What is the cause of so many 
suicides ? The working man is censured. Well, it is not the 
working man who should be censured, it is not the people who 
should be censured, because the real culprit is not always the 
one who is recognised as guilty, who is sent to prison. The 
culprit is he who deprives the working man of his faith in God, 
of his hope of everlasting life. One day, as I was travelling 
from Pistoja to Bologna, I met a young lawyer who was returning 
from the Congress at Eome, where the penitentiary system had 
been discussed. Hearing him talk of prisons, I said to him : 
" Sir, how can you advocate prisons while you say, with the same 
breath, that man is the victim of an irresistible force ? " And 
the young lawyer replied: " We do not imprison men because 
they are guilty : we put them under restraint, like wild beasts, to 
prevent their doing harm to their fellow creatures." Now do you 
know, my dear brethren, who are those who make wild beasts of 
man ? It is those who deprive men of the curb which restrains 
their natural instincts, and this curb is religion. Learn to dis- 
tinguish your true from your false friends, working men ! Do 
not consider him your friend who offers you another person 7 s 



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173 



property, who flatters your ambition in order to obtain your votes 
for his own advancement. Do not believe in those who are always 
speaking to you of progress, and who tell you that progress consists 
in emancipation from all duties, especially those towards God. 
Working men ! restrain your passions, your ambitions ; endeavour 
to ameliorate your condition, and that of your family, by 
honesty, by labour, by just dealings ; and convince your- 
selves that happiness, tranquillity, peace are obtained in 
the fulfilment of your duties, especially those towards God. 
Convince yourselves that every good gift and every perfect 
gift is of Him alone. By all means profit by the discoveries of 
science ; but do not forget the one thing needful — that God 
should be ever present to you, and His blessing upon your work. 
For doubtless we must work, doubtless we must make use of 
scientific discoveries ; but this does not always mean success. 
Progress often brings with it disastrous consequences. Look at 
the steam-engine! As it rushes by, we exclaim: " What a 
splendid invention ! This is progress ! What has become of 
those times when it took days to accomplish a distance which 
now can be covered in an hour?" Yes, this is progress; but 
now look again. The train has run off the rails : the carriages 
are shattered in pieces. There are human beings mangled and 
crushed, arms and legs are broken and mutilated, blood flows 
everywhere, and the air is filled with heartrending cries. When 
we see a sight like this, we feel tempted to anathematize progress. 
Eemember, therefore, we are always in need of God, we can 
never do without Him. Working men, is your home in the 
country, your sphere of labour there ! Strive to fill your heart 
with Christian thoughts as you go about your daily work. You 
have by your side the ox who, although more powerful than you, 
is yet your servant.* When the ox has accomplished his work, 
when his strength is worn out with age, he will become useless ; 
but do not doubt, you, if you have faith in God, will receive at 
the end of your life the reward of your labour. Therefore, in the 

* In Italy the oxen are employed instead cf horses to plough the fields, and 
for all purposes of agricultural labour. 



174 



Sermon 14. 



midst of your great silent fields, look up to Heaven above you, 
and ask for God's blessing upon your work. Or perhaps your 
sphere of labour lies in the mighty heart of some great city. You 
will find it more difficult than your fellow workman in the 
country to lift your thoughts to the infinite horizon ; but you 
will find that the recollection of God's providence will act as a 
refreshing influence upon the heavy atmosphere, and breathe 
new life into your souls. Who gives you your skill and your 
strength ? Who gives you the materials upon which you work ? 
God, Who wills you to rule over material objects, and not to be, 
ruled by them. But this is not sufficient : you must not stop 
short when you set before you the standard of a well-regulated, 
well-spent life. Work does not suffice unless it is united to. 
prayer. God wills us to be religious — that is, He w T ills that we 
should render Him homage for that which w T e have received at 
His hands. Working men, seek the protection of religion for 
yourselves and your families, for religion should be the climax of 
the working man's desire. Sometimes, in a procession 01 
working men, I have noticed a banner which had for its motto 
the word " Labour." Well, labour is not enough, for man 
requires not only bodily sustenance : he needs comfort for his 
soul. There is another word which must be added to labour, 
and that is " Union." Union is strength : there is consolation 
in sincere sympathy. But if labour gives food, religion sweetens 
the bitterness of the bread of toil. Whilst union gives strength, 
religion supplies union, with its true foundation, liberty. No 
union can exist if founded on error : it must be founded on truth 
alone. Therefore, the working man's banner should be inscribed 
with three words : " Labour, Union, Eeligion." And, when the 
working man marches under this banner, he may not be rich, 
but he can never be unhappy ! 



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